


Captain's Log: The Retaking of the Paradis

by A26



Series: Captain's Log Series (Aka Space Gays) [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Big Bang Challenge, Demons, I have to tag vague here okay, Laser Guns, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Psychic Abilities, Space Battles, Space Gays, Space Smut, Supernatural Elements, Surprises, Unconventional Relationship, ereribigbang, set in the 4500s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A26/pseuds/A26
Summary: I’m Levi Ackerman. My ship’s orders are to take specially trained psychics to gaping holes in reality so they can close them up and protect the universe from whatever is lurking within alternate realities.





	1. Day 3,490

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shulkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shulkie/gifts).



> So here's my Ereri Big Bang fic! 
> 
> Okay guys so I was paired up with [the awesome and lovely Arteis](http://arteis.tumblr.com), who produced two wonderful pieces of art to go with this story. Please please go check them out, they're incredible! 
> 
>  
> 
> Piece No.1  
> Piece No.2
> 
>  
> 
> & a special big thank you to Shulkie for proof reading this! I appreciate it so much! :D

>>> start translation

>>> processing

>>> language selected; fg; sector 9-076; ready

>>> ancient text 42-b; sub-sector 78-q

>>> local; earth

>>> …

It's been almost seven full solar cycles that I've been the Captain of the Paradis, a scouting vessel belonging to the military legion of sector 5-023. In your language that basically means I'm approximately eighty earthen years from your sector, if I didn't have a highly illegal teleportation drive built into the engine to modify the hyperdrive. 

The brass doesn't know it’s there. 

I’m Levi Ackerman. My ship’s orders are to take specially trained psychics to gaping holes in reality so they can close them up and protect the universe from whatever is lurking within alternate realities. 

Yes, that actually happens. It's fucking messy, too. It’s normal to recycle crews in this line of work, but just because it's normal doesn't mean I like it. I hate any of my crew dying and I do my best to keep them alive. 

It's getting trickier though given that the Legion recruit anyone willing no matter where they’re from. 

As a result, I don't get attached. There’s no point getting invested if their odds of dying are so high. It's a cold way of thinking, but I can't afford emotion on this job. I’ve usually lean toward apathy, so I guess the career suits me. 

My latest crop of replacements, according to their files, are all from sub-sector 104. It's a cluster of worlds in artificial orbit of a huge ecumenopolis planet. It's an enormous urban arcology - truly immense, self contained, many-layered structures that reach high into the sky, each housing millions of people. They’re really shitty places to live but they’re home to a lot of people, so the Legion gets a lot of (if not most) soldiers from there. 

“Small universe huh?” I say more to myself as the new recruits are lined up in front of me on the ship’s flight deck. “I spent some time in sub-sector 104, so I honestly feel sorry for all of you.” None of them look particularly offended when I insult their homeworld. 

They’re all pale and skinny, to be expected of a hive world. They've probably never had sunlight on their skin before. Besides Eren that is, the kid is pale but looks like an agri-worlder compared to his peers. Must have off-worlder blood. 

I eye them all up, recalling their faces from the mugshots provided on their transfer documents. Most people from these types of world tend to end up in gangs, meaning most of them should know how to use a gun. 

The ones that stand out the most are Historia and Armin. Both are short with shaggy tied up pale yellow hair. The rest are a drab bunch, weighed down with dark, heavy clothing and scraggly, butt-fluff beards and unkempt hair. I’ll be ordering clean faces and clean uniforms as soon as we’re starbound. 

I approach Eren. 

“You must be the new Psychic. You can close rifts right?” I ask him. That's his sole reason for being on my ship, after all. He looks about ready to shit himself and his nervous swallow makes his neck tense. 

“I’ve never tried it before, sir, but I want to try.” 

“By the nine fucking moons of Trost,” I mutter. Turning my back on the lot of them, I pinch the bridge of my nose, as if somehow it will stop the frustration from etching more lines into my skin. I’m no spring chicken, but I swear the stress ages you prematurely. 

“No fucking wibbly shit unless I order it. Got it? I don't want you tearing us all a new one. Just be aware we all die if you can't do it. Failure is not an option.” 

Eren grits his teeth, his jaw tensing as he struggles to maintain eye contact. He nods once. 

“Yes, sir. I won't fail.” 

“Good,” I mumble, proceeding to run the new recruits through a quick introduction of what is left of the current crew. 

“This is Hange, lead mechanic. Hange knows how to speak with the machinery. Any tech questions go to them, and in their absence Moblit. They are the ship’s primary engineers. No one aside from those two are permitted access to the lower rear decks unless granted by myself.” In other words, those two are the only ones who know what is hooked up to the engine. 

The newbies seem somewhat intimidated by the mechanics’ appearance, and I don't blame them. I'm not sure if the two of them are more machine than Eldian and I'm not sure I really want to know. Let's just say the pair get taken in for servicing at the same time as the Paradis. 

Three limbs out of four on Hange are cybernetic, and their long robes cover everything else. Moblit has a cybernetic spinal implant on his back, allowing him four extra mechanical arms. They’re long and spindly and kinda creepy as fuck, with pincer like fingers on the tips. A walking tool kit. He’s equipped with most standard mechanical repair tools, all on his back. 

“Next up is Miké.” 

Miké hails from a rural planet way out on the other side of the next sector, housing one intelligent primal race known as the ‘Orvud’. He's tall, has pale green skin with a texture more akin to a carapace than actual flesh. He's hardy, robust, muscular and tall. He's the tallest one here and by far one of the best and most experienced fighters. His legs are digitigrade, and he's got a large set of insectoid wings on his back too. He’s got fuck all senses aside from his smell, but he functions just fine regardless.

“Miké is your man for armoury, weapons training, the likes.” 

He nods at the new recruits once in greeting. 

“He don’t talk much.” 

The boss doesn't sugarcoat his recruitment speeches, so this lot must be suicidal to have signed up for a scouting ship. 

Eren’s kind have a connection to the same shit the demons use to open holes in reality. It's the same stuff responsible for too many pointless deaths, so people like him are hated, quite frankly. He's useful on board with my crew. If he can control his powers, that is. 

“Moblit will give you the tour of the ship, show you where to train, eat, sleep and shit. We leave port in exactly twenty cycles. One day.” 

They all nod and Moblit steps forward to take it from there. He’ll run them through the ship and show them around, get them orientated and get their ID implants updated to allow ease of access around their new home. 

The ship is fairly small for a Legion fleet ship, but it’s nimble and agile enough to get through most meteor belts without much issue. It can house up to five hundred people at a squeeze, but I rarely have more than fifty. 

A lot of the ship is just empty space. The ship rattles and creaks like an old house. If you’re not used to the noises it can be hard to sleep. That's something my new squad will have to learn the hard way. The Paradis has all of her own little idiosyncrasies and it takes time to get to know her.

Living quarters are all on the same level, mine being no exception. It's within walking distance to the bridge, for easy access in case of an emergency. There are a lot of empty corridors and rooms made with fresh sheets, some unused for years. I like to have the housekeeping drones keep the sheets clean in the unlikely event we have guests. We never have guests though. We’re not exactly an interstellar bunk and breakfast. 

I head up to the flight deck and take a seat, surveying the maps of the quadrant we’re headed to for our next mission. The Commander uploaded a new request to us, saying it was only a small tear which needed an elite team instead of a fleet. Apparently even with a bunch of fucking newbies I’m still the best they’ve got. It’s a sorry state of affairs if the galaxy is relying on a bunch of kids. 

“Petra, input coordinates for Paradis mission 48-D,” I tell the interface. 

“Roger that, sir, coordinates loading. Complete.” The screen lights up with a new map of the plotted course as the ship’s tech responds in her tinny, polite voice. “Total journey time: four full cycles.” 

“Re-plot course using the hyperdrive.” 

“Calculating… Total journey time: 0.3 cycles.” 

“Lock in calculations. We’ll take that one.” 

“Warning: course contains two asteroid fields. Do you wish to continue?” 

“Yes. Override warning.” I can pilot through them manually as soon as we reach them. I’ve never had a problem with a rock belt before, so these should be a piece of piss. 

“Override confirmed. Course set and coordinates locked in. When would you like to depart?” 

“Same time tomorrow.” 

“Confirmed.” 

“Status report, full ship.” I order Petra to relay, and she reels off each and every key point from food supplies, fuel, backup power and even cleanliness. It takes a few minutes to complete so I take a wander around the bridge and inspect the flight instruments for damage and dirt.

“Report complete.” 

I click a button on my collar. “Hange.” The tech puts the call through. Hange answers shortly after. 

“Boss?” 

“Personal note. I’m low on Karanesium. Does this planet have any?” 

“You will need to walk approximately four hundred metres - want me to load up the co-ords?” 

“Nah I’ll find it. I’ll be back in three.” 

The ship’s rear doors are already open with the supply crew busily loading crates. I make my way past them and into the open air of the space port. A strong gust of hot air from a departing ship surges at me from the side, and blows my long dark green jacket around my ankles furiously, my boots activating their gravity measures. This particular planet has a low level of gravity, resulting in the need for heavy clothing. The floors are all laid with sheet metal and grav soles are common implants built into footwear of any class. 

The masses of people in the port are lumbered with heavy dark jackets and metal plated trousers, half with cybernetics and the other half missing limbs. Spaceports are not safe places to work for any race, so it doesn’t matter how many different skin colours you get at one, chances are they’ll all look the same: rugged, tired and worn out.

The port is encapsulated within a large opening between multiple tall buildings, interconnected by enclosed walkways. Even in the way the structures are shaped means that the port is essentially underground. 

This particular planet is entirely one city. 

There isn’t any sunshine, just great looming dark buildings, thick stinking air and masses of bodies. The stench is like every different race’s sweat mixed into one deadly concoction of repulsiveness. I activate my breather as I reach the end of the walkway from the Paradis and it covers my mouth and nose before I slip into the artificially lit crowds. 

“Sir! Captain!” I hear someone calling over the comms. I keep walking, since there’s no point in stopping amidst the mass of people. I’ll end up losing my sense of direction in a heartbeat if I allow myself to become distracted. 

“What is it, recruit?” 

“I’m behind you, wait up, sir!” 

“Eren? Did you think it was a good idea to skip orientation?” 

“Hange said you were getting Karanesium?” 

“You might want to mind the volume in crowds like this,” I tell him, pushing my way through a few large bodies to get closer to my destination. The breather is really helping because otherwise I’d be dying in the heat and the smell. Eren catches up to me somehow, and only then I remember he’s from a planet like this. He takes the lead and cruises through the crowd like he was born to do it. 

I follow him closely and thank him mentally for his usefulness. 

“I already did a scan of the entire ship. I know where everything is, sir,” Eren explains through the comms. With the heavy bustle of bodies it’s hard to make some out some words, the volume on the receiver maxed out with little to no effect. I’ll admit he’s more upfront about my last Psy regarding his abilities. Maybe he’s just confident. 

“Don’t get smart. I can still leave you here,” I warn him, which seems to shut him up. 

We clunk through the bodies while our boots become accustomed to the gravity. We exit the bustle of the spaceport and into a side street that is even narrower, with no less people. It takes us at least an hour to get to where we’re going, and the Paradis is more or less still in view. It’s just that damn busy that it takes a lifetime to get anywhere by foot on these damn planets. Next time I’m taking a cruiser. 

Eren slips through another thin passageway and the streets are more akin to indoor corridors made of sheet metal than actual streets in the open air, lit increasingly more dimly by thin tubes of fluorescent liquid coursing to its destinations. 

The wider streets are lined with shoddily constructed market stalls, ranging in product from food to tech implants and body modification studios. It's a dimly lit, although colourful place; we shuffle past a variety of different colours, scents, skin textures and heights. Some don't have skin. They are just clear masses of an unknown fluid, encased with a gravity modulator that provides some semblance of a body, its organs suspended in liquid for all to see. 

The people start to dwindle when we draw nearer to our destination and the market feel turns into something darker. The streets get narrower and the smell grows stale and dirty, pipes lining the walls oozing with glowing acidic liquid, their puddles burning slowly through the metal flooring. If you didn't know what you were looking for, odds are something would rob you and leave you for dead in these corridors. Children giggle from the shadows and dart between obstacles to avoid us, and I spot them crouching behind large barrels of murk, holding small laser guns and knives. 

One flash of the two laser hand cannons on my belt from beneath my long heavy coat is enough to deter them from trying anything funny. Hange custom made them to pack a specifically meaner punch than standard military issue. 

Not that I'd have trouble with my point blank aim if a little snot bag wanted to try something. 

Eren leads us through the next turn and into a little bland faced shop with blacked out windows, its name illuminated in neon blinking lights, contents full of all sorts of illegal tech. I don't always play by the rules. Old habits die hard. 

The shopkeeper greets us in his native tongue, one which Eren understands but takes me a minute for my translation chip to kick in. As soon as it does the garbled mess of syllables I don't recognise melts into something more understandable. Eren deals with the bartering while I wander about the shop to see if anything takes my fancy. I activate the retinal chip in my left eye and the foreign text blurs around until I can understand it, the lense translating for me. 

Modified weapons, drugs and forbidden objects from various planets with various uses for various races, the shop is an eclectic collection from across the quadrant. Most of these were probably stolen from the different types of ships they get through the port. 

I’m inspecting a dark matter explosive and overhear Eren working the price down and the shopkeeper refusing. I put the black ball back on the shelf and walk up to the counter. The tech fixed to my neck sparks to life when I speak and the words that leave my mouth in one language translates out into the air into another. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“He’s not going lower than a hundred,” Eren informs me with a glare pointed toward the shopkeeper. I eye him up a little, a Trostian with light blue skin and delicate runes marked up the left side of his face, scalp dotted with little white spikes in place of hair. His eyes blink sideways and glow a gentle yellow. 

“What if I gave you this, plus forty?” I fish through a pocket and pull out a tooth, setting it on the counter. His eyes widen minutely before he picks the tooth up between two white claws. He studies it closely and tucks it away into his pocket, disappearing abruptly behind the counter. 

“What was it?” Eren asks. I don’t respond, waiting silently for the guy to return. The shopkeeper reappears with a small, dark green box and flips it open to reveal a standard set of forty vials of Karanesium. Each one contains one dosage. Two if you’re a lightweight. 

“Here you go,” he says. Places like this people don't ask where they obtain their goods, and the same goes for my transaction. I wave my wrist over the counter and I credit him 40 units. I pull my bag out from the side of my coat and slip the Karanesium vials inside, slinging it back over my shoulder and fixing it there for the trek back to the Paradis. 

Eren takes the lead again and thanks to his savvy footwork he sees us back to the ship in a little under an hour. The dock crew have more or less finished with supplies and a few of the crew members are lingering around the platform, others enjoying ground time while they can, probably off in a bar somewhere. 

Once I'm back up at the bridge, Eren successfully shaken off and back with his peers, I shuck my jacket and hang it over the back of my pilot's chair, taking the box of Karanesium with me back to my quarters to kill the rest of the day before departure.


	2. Day 3,491

It's time to roll out. 

The ship is stocked and fuelled and all chipped crew members are on board. Once the doors are sealed, Petra reports that we aren’t carrying any stowaways. The ship is secure, and it’s safe to say we’re ready to go. I’ve got my most senior team on the flight deck - I don’t need any of the riffraff up here while I’m piloting. 

I activate the controls and the ship hums to life, the engines roaring as the framework creaks with the shudder of departure.

We set out, away from the heavy traffic and bustle of the planet and we’re up. As soon as we’re clear of the looming buildings, I hit the thrusters and propel off world. I am much more at ease out amongst the great nothingness of space. It feels much more like home to me. 

“Clearing borders now, sir.” Hange states. “Reaching orbit in three, two.” 

I spot Hange’s hand moving when we break through the endpoint of artificial atmosphere, flipping switches to keep the Paradis happy when we hit the eerie silence of the stars. 

With all systematic adjustments made, everyone sits a little more comfortably in their seats. I wonder how the new recruits are doing, a smirk on my face. The first time going into space is often unpleasant, your stomach turns and you get dizzy and disorientated easily. I'm not entirely sure how many of them have travelled between planets, if at all, and I suppose on the way to our first mission I’ll have to spend some time with them all to get to know them.

“Petra, initiate mission 48-D.”

“Coordinates set. Loading,” she responds automatically, bringing up the visual display before me. I steer the ship into the right direction and lock in the destination, allowing Petra to take over so I can move freely about the ship. 

“Petra, alert me half a cycle in advance for the first asteroid belt. I wanna see the whole thing before going through it.” 

“Yes Sir, I will alert you.” 

I announce over the speakers before leaving the bridge: “Captain speaking, the trip will take three months, so get comfortable.” Anyone with a standard issue comms collar will get the message relayed. It's a simple molecular band around the nape of the neck which is connected to the military ID implants issued when coming aboard. 

Civilian ones are also used. Everyone who isn't rogue has a number. Usually you’re chipped at birth depending on where you’re from, and removing them without killing a person is very difficult. 

I’m on my fourth. I plan on keeping this one.

A quick look over the instrument panels and I'm happy the ship is ready to cruise toward its destination. A couple of jumps throughout the trip will speed things up a bit. Commander Erwin gave me six months to solve the issue so I'm using the excess time to gauge how well trained my new recruits are. 

I inform them all of this once I've got them lined up in the armoury. 

“Call it a crash course in fighting demons. You know the odds, the chances of survival, but if trained properly and if you know what to expect, your chances of living increase tenfold. That is my job. To keep you all alive. Failure is not an option because the only way you fail is if you die. One mistake means life or death for more than just your own sorry hides. So the quicker you get your heads out of your asses and looking out for your teammates, the better,” I tell them all sternly, and everyone filters across the wide empty hall outside of the armoury sector. This is easily my favourite room of the entire ship. The greenhorns are soon to realise why. 

They stand in line at ease, all wearing their black standard issue suits. 

“The uniform you are wearing can save your life. Get to know it.” I live in mine, more or less. It's an intelligent suit made from the toughest, lightest material in the closest four sectors. Multiple molecularly manipulated fabrics and linked with the wearer’s physiology.

“They have an oxygen supply in case of emergency and are strong enough to stop multiple types of claws. Bullets too, but we don't really worry about those. They are fire resistant, ice resistant and antiseptic. If wounded, keep the damn thing on.” 

They’re all looking at their suits, some inspecting the buttons and controls on the wrists. I’m just waiting for one of them to-

Connie’s whole body jolts and his stance falters, his head suddenly encased in a thin barrier made of small transparent hexagons. The others try their best not to smirk at him and I wait for him to correct the issue himself, which flusters him somewhat. 

Eren elbows him, clearly scolding him for interrupting and Sasha outright laughs at him. Inwardly, I’m smiling to myself. There's always one. 

“You have one month to pass the obstacle course. Petra, initiate training course.” 

“Of course, sir. What difficulty would you like to set it to?” The recruits swallow nervously. 

“Set it to standard for now.” 

“Yes sir.”

The large hall’s lined walls, ceilings and floors, lined with glowing lines and gaps, flares to life as the simulation activates, the whole room shifting into an incredibly realistic training ground. Walls rise from the floor as holograms fill the empty space, crackles of fire, crickets chirping and flowing water echoing sporadically as the system calibrates the sounds. There are even a few low rumbles, cracking noises and some menacing growls. 

The room suddenly looks like a deserted trading vessel, the entrance being right by my side. 

“Your mission objective is to secure the ship. If you die in the simulation, trust me, you will know.” 

The wall behind them slides down to reveal a vast selection of holographic ballistic and laser weapons. 

“Gear up and begin.” 

I stand aside and watch as they all arm themselves with their training guns. None of them ask any questions as they enter the deadly maze, and I look forward to seeing how long they’ll last. I can hear them over their comms, and I notice that although they lack confidence, they survive longer than my last crew. I hear them all shouting a few seconds later and a few cracks and pops of artificial energy discharge, then groaning. 

The simulation fizzles away to reveal the lot of them lying on the ground, clutching various body parts. 

“Ten point two seconds. Congratulations. You are officially dead.” 

“Ugh! Sir!,” Sasha pipes up as she hobbles over, her suit glowing gently where she was hit on her upper thigh. “Is this how hard it is usually?” 

“Do you want the honest answer?” I ask. 

Sasha deflates and whines, helping Connie to his feet. Jean and Eren are muttering between themselves before moving apart and returning to the start line. 

They all attempt the simulation multiple times. With multiple faults. 

“You’re in deep space, don't shoot the damn hull with explosives unless you want to get sucked outside!” 15 seconds. 

“Energy shots splash! Do not burn yourself or others!” 20 seconds.

“Eren, Jean! Focus!” 19 seconds.

“Mikasa! Good job!” 30 seconds. 

Mikasa carries the group until they find their footing. Each time they fail the simulation resets the map and redesigns itself, so as to prevent them learning the layout. There is no reset button in real life. Thankfully after a while most starships become somewhat predictable in their structural organisation. Unless it’s a xenos vessel, but even then every ship has a power source and main points of operation. 

Securing an entire ship depends on how functional it’s tech is and how big the thing is. If it's a trading vessel (some of the largest known to the empire) it's gonna take hours without a scannable internal system. Having learned layouts of multiple ships in advance will help the team in the long run to pull off their missions with efficiency and speed. 

Armin takes everyone aside on their next failed attempt and I sit to the side, folding my legs and wait out their next disastrous turn. 

“I think I have an idea,” Armin tells them.

Everyone looks to him with utmost trust. That's a good sign. 

“I can't guarantee it will work, but it might be worth a shot.” 

They suss out a strategy and thankfully, one of them has done their demonology homework. Deploying Armin’s tactical strategy this time, the outcome is dramatically improved. Can’t lie, I’m impressed. 

They take their time. They look out for each other.

One minute, twelve seconds. Two out of twelve hostile life forms dealt with. 

“Not bad, even if Mikasa is doing all the work,” I gripe.

The men bristle at that. Mikasa seems nonplussed about the compliment, keeping a straight face. If she's uncomfortable at all with the attention she doesn't show it. 

We try the simulation again and again for the rest of the cycle. As soon as they are dismissed they sag with relief, docking their weapons slowly as the room returns to normal, the false walls dissipating and the lights returning to illuminate the hall brightly. 

When the guys trudge out for showers, Mikasa approaches me. 

“Captain. Can I try by myself?” 

“Why?” 

“I can do it.” 

“You’ll have plenty of chances to practice.” 

She presses her lips together and the frustration of having a team with her, not up to her level, is clear on her face. 

“Do it _with_ me, then?” 

I actually consider it. 

“Wait for now.” 

“Okay, sir.” 

“Dismissed.” She salutes me and takes her leave. I follow shortly after and head to the deck, pulling up the map on the main table console. The holographic map materialises with a gentle flicker and we’re only a couple of days away from our first obstacle. 

I find myself thinking about the group dynamic. They look after each other more now than when they started, which is good, to see improvement in just one session. They’re a tight knit group of friends and Mikasa in particular seems fiercely protective of them all, Eren the most.

No doubt the kid has gotten into many fights for being different. 

My concern is that they will take too long warming up to the current team. The two will need to merge if we have any hopes of working together effectively. 

I’ve got 150 days to get to know them, and for them to get to know and trust me, as well as the few others on board the Paradis. 

They seem like a promising bunch, though.


	3. Day 3,494

>>>translating ages; rough estimate based on sector time differences 

>>>complete

Connie. 23. Honest, mostly hard working. Likes to think he’s funny. Spent training years with the others, seems particularly fond of Sasha. Combat skills average. 

Sasha. 21. Tenacious, good aim, high potential for sharpshooting. Probably the best aim, second to Mikasa. Eats like a horse. 

Speaking of horses.

Jean. 26. Shows leadership skills. Butts heads with Eren, distracting both of them. Despite this he gets along well with the rest of the crew. Confident enough, says what he thinks, reliable. Combat skills good but needs polishing. 

Mikasa. 26. Grew up with Eren on, lo and behold, an agri world. Turns out she was separated from him when they were teenagers when the Legion caught wind of Eren’s abilities, and carted him off in the huge ships to be certified and collared. By some impossible twist of fate they found each other in military training in sector 104. Excellent combat skills from years of practice. Social skills lacking. I like this one. 

Eren. 26. Rank 2 Psy. Too early to discern his specific branch but feels drawn to telepathy. Keep an eye on that one. Combat skills need refining but has good common sense.

Historia. 23. Average combat skills. Mild mannered. Polite. Is she really from a hive planet? She can hold her own, but Ymir tends to put herself at risk for her. Not that it's too much of an issue. 

Ymir. 28. Joined at the hip to Historia. Good combat skills. Makes up for Historia with ease. Unusual feeling about her, but is not listed as Psy. Possible dormant. Get checked. 

Armin. 26. The brains of the operation. Combat skills painfully average. Works better in a team. More confident in background/non aggressive role. Good planning skills, awareness levels. Very perceptive. Reigns in Eren’s hot-headedness with Mikasa. Very close to both of them. 

Marlow. 23. Anomaly. Decent combat skills, friendly, polite. Very self righteous. Will not bend the rules unless directly ordered to disobey. Even then he will struggle. Stands up for what he believes is right. Good common sense. 

Nine new recruits. Observed, and notes made over the first three days of star travel. It will take time to get to know them but progress is quick, as need be. They’ll be thrust into a potential situation in less than three months.

Everyone arrives to the training hall suited and booted. Miké has been teaching them alongside Hange and Moblit when I am not available, the feedback showing them all working together nicely.

It's my turn to supervise, so I send them all back into the simulation. They last three minutes and would have made it to their best time yet if it weren't for Eren getting ahead of himself and getting killed again, causing Mikasa to lose her cool and Jean to run into the fray after her. 

The rest fell swiftly after. 

As the simulation fizzles away, Jean has Eren by the collar and the pair are arguing until I get up and walk over. 

“Break it up! Guys!” Armin attempts to peacekeep, grabbing Eren while Connie takes Jean’s arms and Mikasa gets between them. They both still and turn slowly toward me like scolded children. 

“Not so easy, is it?” 

“Well if it's so easy why don't you show us how it’s done?” Eren snaps, the regret instantly visible on his face. I feel my face tighten and I stare him down, turning on my heel and beckoning everyone over to the observation area. 

“Alright,” I tell them. “Petra, reset training schematic. Standard difficulty.” I give Eren a pointed stare. I could easily set it to the hardest level and complete it all by myself, but we’re not here to do this alone and I'm not here to show off. Regardless, the squad seem a mixture of anxious and excited. 

“Yes sir. Would you like any additional modifications?” 

She's so used to me playing with the simulation, customising it to get myself accustomed to any possibility. 

“Just the same as before please.” 

“Configuring.” 

I grab myself a pair of laser pistols and a sword for backup. Fortunately the laser weaponry is self-charging. Two should suffice, but I have a spare energy pack just in case.

The room morphs back into another similar map of a broken ship. Eyeing the outside, I notice a huge hole in the hull. Limbs and frozen chunks of bodies float in the empty space where the ship has lost atmosphere. I activate my breather and enter the training border, the line changing the gravity to simulate what it would be like in space. The temperature also matches, cold nipping at my ears and fingertips. 

I blast myself over to the ruined ship, scanning what life forms I can, mentally logging their locations. Not that it matters, the sneaky fuckers can move about however they see fit. I activate my cloaking module, and my boots fix me to the flooring when I clear the break in the hull. 

The team will all be able to see what I'm seeing, as well as everything I can't. 

I grab hold of whatever is fixed to the walls, pulling myself through the zero gravity, occasional spurts of energy quietly hissing from my suit to steer me in the right direction. 

The first threshold I pass, I tap the door controls and the power is out. I pull the electrics panel out and rearrange a few wires, the door sliding shut once I’m done. The pressure doesn’t regulate, so there must be another breach somewhere else. 

A soft skittering noise echoes through the hallways, the smoke long since sucked out into space, the corridors feeling cold and void of life. Something attempts to spring out from a portal behind me but is met with an energy blast to its ugly black gnarly face. Teeth and blood spew out into the space around me and the short creature falls limp. 

Another rounds the corner slowly, moving through the hall as though the lack of gravity has zero effect on it. It has multiple long, sinister looking limbs, masses of spikes and pincers ready to tear my throat out. It growls and lumbers toward me, this one so big it struggles to move through the narrow hall.

A quick shot to the beast’s neck is enough to remove the head from the body and another two shots to the torso area ensures it remains in multiple pieces. 

The trouble with simulated demons, is that they can’t quite capture every detail about them. Simulations are pre-programmed with already existing data, whereas the void has every conceivable atrocity and more at its disposal. We can’t simulate randomly what we haven’t seen before, which is the key element of danger when fighting void creatures. 

The simulations also don’t capture that sense of dread and terror that accompanies fighting real demons. You know not to take it seriously, at least in the back of your mind, since you know it’s not real. 

I push away from the door, doing another scan and finding a few more life forms nearby behind closed doors. 

A few blackish purple claws pierce through a door as I pass, barely missing my leg. 

One check ahead of me before looking back, and a quick shot back at the creature as it melts its way through the sealed bay door dispatches it. Two more shots ahead of me immediately after see the others dead that had planned on ambushing me. They’re deceptively intelligent since they can see shit we can’t. 

That’s the primary disadvantage to fighting interdimensional beings. 

I propel forward and scan for the bridge. It's close. I make quick work of three more demons on the way, their black blood oozing gently into space before the simulated corpses flicker and dissipate, signifying their defeat.  
I use both my tech, and my wits, to keep myself alive. I strongly believe a suit training session or five will greatly improve the squad’s odds of survival. I’ll have to teach them everything I know before we reach our mission destination. Hopefully they’ll learn a thing or two from watching me.

I round another corner and scan closed doors while I pass them in order to avoid traps and energetic snares. I push myself off from a burnt wall console and up toward the main doors of the bridge which are half closed, the seams at the edges sparking and crackling. 

A quick check inside reveals a cluster of eggs. Black, jelly-like orbs attached by thick gooey fluid, suspended in space and fixed to the walls, floors, and ceilings. I cast an enhanced eye over them and the lens works closely with the cerebral chip to relay what they detect to what I directly see.

They contain multiple life forms but with the lack of atmosphere my pyrotechnic options are limited. I can't burn them in one go, nor can I set an explosive. I’m not going to secure the power to the ship if they aren't dealt with. I have two options. Dark matter or avoid them. I’d have to creep through the entire nest to get to the consoles and the brood mother is bound to be close by. Dark matter may damage the ship more, rendering it even more useless, but there is a possibility of the babies scenting out their first proper meal, hatching, and swarming me. 

139 lifeforms detected and a growl sounds from a few corridors down to my right, just behind me in the large round room. I survey the open space and back up, using an energy blast from my pistol to awaken the eggs, and draw the attention of any nearby demons. 

The blast sends me gently floating back through the open room and I position myself just off center, fixing my boots to the floor. I activate the shields to full capacity on my suit and it covers with lots of gently glowing hexagons, weaving around my body with an atomically thin layer of ultra-tough molecules. I set the power override to activate on my command and I wait. 

It doesn't take long for the sinister snap of bones and the slick pops of egg casings to alert me that the eggs are starting to hatch. A rumbling growl and the loud clang of claws against metal to my right tells me their mama is also on her way. 

I wait, standing my ground, guns in hand. 

I surely hope the parent arrives before the babies. 

It’s not my day. Fuck. 

The slippery, black and purple, writhing little creatures are all made of bone and sinew and teeth. Although gloopily stuck to the floor for the first few moments of their life, they drag themselves across the floor driven entirely by primal urge and instinct to feed. Their spiked, menacing little arms emerge from the slime encasing them and flop outward to pull themselves toward me at an increasing speed. 

I remain where I am. 

The brood mother that appears from the right is all arms and taloned legs and multiple body parts. All black and slick and rippling with unfertilised eggs coating its hideously deformed abdomen. I fire multiple shots at the larger demon, hoping to kill it before it gets too close. 

It takes about fifteen blasts and the huge hulking creature gets fairly close before slumping to the ground, claws still outstretched toward my feet as the life drains from it and it dies. I have no time to celebrate because both of my legs are covered with small, foot long black creatures. 

Disgusting. 

I fire a few shots at the ones close by, using a wrist blade from my suit to clear the ones off from my legs. I use a wrist blade from my suit to cut the creatures off my legs and use my blaster to shoot down ones farther away, alternating to buy myself time. 

Eventually I have too many crawling on me to aim properly and I return to waiting, despite feeling the occasional nip of sharp teeth trying to pierce the armour. 

I wait. 

Almost. 

I’m swarmed. It’s hard to stay standing with the weight.

My armour strains to contain their relentlessly vicious claws and teeth. After a few moments of this, my tech confirms that roughly 90% of the eggs have hatched and are now in the room with me. 

A press of a button activates the suit’s shield, and a flash of orange energy explodes outward, dissolving and melting all of the small demons within ten feet. A quick shot from my laser pistol deals with the few that were beyond that range. I push off from the ground and propel toward the bridge, quickly shooting any remaining, unhatched eggs until the scan reads clean.

I’m at the panel quickly, trying to activate the backup power. The controls fight to flicker to life but the power eventually comes on and I have just enough to redirect toward the securing of any compromised zones. It take about five minutes for the atmosphere to pressurise, and the gravity kicks in as soon as it completes.

I move to the other side of the bridge and run a scan for life forms on board. None register, and the ship is deemed secure as soon as I log a distress signal. At this point the simulation pauses. 

“Simulation complete. Mission status: success,” Petra announces as the map dissolves, returning me to the regular training hall. The trainees all look up from their observation screens with a look of awe on their faces. 

I don't even need to tell them that if I can do it solo, they can do it as a team. 

“Try again.” 

I don't miss the peculiar look Eren gives me as he passes. It looks like awe and admiration but I catch a sense of something else in there. Psys have a strong influence on those around them. Some inspire hope, others fear. Eren is somewhat of an abnormal. 

He feels a bit off. Like he wants something from me. 

They practice again and it seems watching a professional helped, so I agree to have Hange, Moblit, Miké and myself do observation runs on much harder difficulty levels once we’re clear of the first asteroid belt. 

Said asteroid belt approaches toward the end of the third day and I pilot through with ease, giving Petra the orders to initiate the first hyperdrive jump once we’re in the clear. Once that is out of the way it's straight back to training. 

We’ve got approximately thirty days, or three weeks before the next asteroid belt and although the last one was a breeze, it was also very small. The next one will take a few hours to pilot through - one of the biggest I've come across for a long time. 

The longest it's taken me to pilot through a rock belt is fourteen hours. 

On our first rest day, seven days in, Eren is everywhere. 

I see him at breakfast, lunch and on the way back to my quarters where I plan on hiding for dinner. I spot him in the vicinity of everywhere I go like some sort of lost puppy. He almost always averts his eyes when I see him again but this game he’s playing is starting to annoy me. 

That's just the first day. By the third rest day I'm itching to get away from him.

I sneak around a corner, having just done a read of his location and holy mother of fuck my life he's right in front of me. 

“The fuck, Yeager?” I snap, unable to contain my frustration any longer. 

“Oh, sir!” He salutes hastily.

“Drop the act, what do you want?” I ask. “And how did you avoid my scans?” 

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” He asks with a cheeky hint to his tone, clearly trying not to smile. I simply glare at him. 

“Well?” I ask impatiently when he doesn't say anything. 

“Oh, nothing, sir-” 

“I’ll be on my way then.” With that, I make a swift exit, my plans for tonight involving a quick spot of Karanesium to help send me off to a deep sleep.


	4. Day 3,495

I had a weird ass dream last night and woke up feeling out of sorts. It wasn't anything dirty, but Eren was in it and I don't usually remember my dreams in so much detail. I dreamt he was trying to mend a tear in spacetime but failed. 

As soon as I'm decent and I’m sure Eren and the others are too, I call for Hange and Eren to meet me at the bridge while the rest resume usual training with Miké and Moblit. 

“Sir,” Eren salutes, making himself known. 

“At ease,” Hange tells him, and he relaxes a little. 

“We’re going to practice sealing breaches today,” I inform him. 

He nods and follows Hange and I away from the flight deck and toward the training areas. We turn down a blue lit corridor and down a large round ramp busy with drones going about their business. At the bottom is a heavy door leading into a corridor full of generously sized circular rooms. Hange mans the controls on the outside and I gesture for Eren to enter, closing the door behind him. 

“Remember, it's a simulation. The room will contain a rank 5 Psy so you’re good to go crazy in there.” 

“Uh, okay,” Eren says as he looks around at the room. It's a bland, round, white panelled room much like the training hall. The only difference is this one is designed to contain psychic powers. It would be an ideal prison cell for Eren if he ever misbehaved. 

I startle myself with where my thoughts take me after that, ideas for a very specific type of punishment creeping in like an unwanted rot. Hange activating the simulation is enough to bring me back to focus and I watch through the small window on the door as the fake interdimensional rift opens in front of Eren. 

It's only about a foot wide, but if you’ve ever looked into one, they feel years wide and endlessly deep. It is very easy to become distracted if you’re not used to it. 

Which is exactly what Eren is. Not used to them. 

Just like my dream, he stares into it for a few moments too long before it jolts and expands another foot, hundreds of shiny black bodies visible in the distance, thousands of tiny red eyes glowing in the darkness. Eren doesn’t anticipate that they are much closer than they seem and a simulated demon ends up socking him in the face before he manages to start closing it. 

The simulation dies down leaving Eren flattened on his arse, winded.

“Try again. Try to not look at it for too long,” I advise him. 

He shakes himself back to the present and gets up, waving for another round. 

We practice until the control panel advises us to break, roughly an hour later. Eren comes close a few times, but is in sore need of practice. The doors open and he's slumped on the floor, his abilities having drained him. 

I hunch over and hand him a tissue for his nose which he doesn't even realise is bleeding. He offers a muffled thanks as he wipes it.

“It was a good practice run,” Hange says. 

“I agree. Let us know when you can continue. Go get some rest,” I instruct him. When he struggles to get to his feet I offer a hand. I slip an arm around his waist and help him through the halls back to his quarters. 

“Thanks, sir,” Eren tells me. I nod and turn to leave when Eren calls for me to wait. 

“Hmm?”

“I’ll try harder next time, I promise.” 

“Just get some rest.” 

Eren hums and I take my leave, returning to the training hall to check in on the others. We’re going to do our first practice run as a full team as soon as Eren is up and running again. In the meantime I get the squad to practice their aims, hand to hand combat and zero grav maneuvers. 

They all float like morons, aside from Mikasa who actually knows a damn thing about her suit. 

This is going to take a while. 

While I’m busy supervising the kids, I find my mind drifting back to Eren. I want to put it down to his psychic influence over me, but I’ve long since had anti-psy chips embedded into the nape of my neck. Whatever wibbly shit he’s putting out, I’m as good as immune, so I have absolutely no excuse to be thinking about a damn psychic. 

Sure, the age difference isn’t all that big, but - why am I even entertaining these wild ideas? Where did they come from? Eren is so far from my type. The only thing he’s got going for him is his height. 

I step aside while the team go at another practice round. 

“Petra, organise housekeeping to send lunch and a tea to room 34.” 

“Yes sir, informing housekeeping now,” Petra confirms over the personal comms. 

I turn my focus back to the group, pausing before turning back. “Petra, have them add something sweet too.” 

I have no clue what he likes to eat, not that military rations are all that exciting. We have a few nibbles here and there reserved for special occasions. I tell myself that I want to get him feeling physically fit again in no time. I always find if I’m feeling shit, a little personal interaction goes a long way. Emotional healing and all that bullshit. 

“Levi, we need you over here!” Hange calls. 

“Coming,” I shout back, lifting my rifle and joining back in with the training. 

Once we break for lunch, albeit a bit late, I make my way through the clean white corridors lined with lights colour coordinated into sectors. I’m about to head into the bridge, but my feet stop me and my head turns right, looking up the orange lit hallways toward the sleeping quarters. 

Everyone else is at the mess hall. 

I don’t make it back. 

A brief tap on the door and I can hear a voice beckoning me in. The door slides open and Eren is sat on his bed, empty tray on his bedside table and all remnants of food long gone. He scrambles to cover his bare legs with his blanket once he notices it’s me, but I wave him off as I step closer. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask. Sure, I have a cagey exterior and I don’t much like company at the best of times, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about my colleagues. We all live together for a job, so we may as well call each other family. 

“I’m much better, thanks. Was the tea your idea?” he asks. 

I nod. 

“Figured you could use all the strength you could get.” 

“It’s my favourite.” 

“Mine too,” I mutter. Finally, we have something in common, my brain tells me. I make a note to hush any of those sorts of thoughts. It’s a good step though. Psychics aren’t usually trusting or easy to get to know. 

“The rifts are a little different than I had anticipated. I thought, having seen one before…” he trails off. 

“You were in Shiganshina. I read your file.” 

I want to see what make him tick. It’s good for me to know what goes on in the mind of our Psy. I wait patiently and then…

“A rift opened near the port,” Eren started. “The sky went black and the birds all stopped singing. People panicked when the demons started flooding out. ” I nod as he starts telling me his story, taking a seat next to the bed, gently moving his suit out of the way so I don’t sit on it. “I was out playing with my friends and we ran back to my house when we realised what was happening. It was hard, people were running and knocking people over. In the end we didn’t make it back to my house in time, the demons had overrun the place. I couldn’t help my mother, so I vowed after that to do what I could to save others.” 

“So you signed up for the military?” 

“Sort of. I was meant to be signing up with Mikasa and Armin who also lost their families, but the recruitment center was where the scans picked up my energy. I had no clue at the time. Next thing I know I’m on a huge ship being segregated like a disease and treated no differently.” 

“It doesn’t seem to bother you much,” I point out. A lot of psychics I’ve met have a sort of resentment vibe about them because of how they were treated. 

“I hated it,” he grit out, practically dripping with rage. There it is - that spark of life that makes him so intriguing. “It is what it is. I know I probably won’t live half as long as a normal person, but if I can close some rifts at least I might save another planet from what happened to mine,” he adds. 

The memory of reading his file reminds me that his world was quarantined and classified as a forbidden planet. The tear that opened was far too big for the military psychics to close and the whole planet was overrun by demons. It had to be artificially contained before it was destroyed. Only a small handful of ships made it out before the barriers went up. It was one planet, or multiple, so the sector’s leader made the call to cut the whole thing off, killing anyone left on the surface. 

“I’ve met plenty of old psychics.” It’s not a lie. I’ve met plenty that outlive expectations. 

“Really? I guess I don’t really know all that many. The only other ones I met were the ones in conditioning on the ship.” 

“If you have a squad that looks out for you, you can live as long as you like.” I partly think back to my old squad. A trickle of guilt seeps in remembering their deaths. I still occasionally wish I could have done more to save them. There’s no helping it, though. I just have to build trust in those I’m working with now. 

Eren seems to have perked up and I try a slightly awkward smile, to which he beams at me. 

“Thanks, sir. Can I ask where you’re from?” 

“I guess that’s not too much trouble. I was born on Sina. Did a lot of illegal shit. Joined the military, been closing tears for about seven or eight cycles now.” 

“Wow, that’s a long time.” 

“Yeah. I guess I found my calling?”

“From what Hange and Moblit tell me you’re pretty good at it.” 

“I’ve been on enough expeditions to be dead ten times over. I can hold my own.” 

Eren laughs at that. 

“But seriously if it weren’t for the team I worked with over the years I think I would actually be dead.” 

Eren hums, his brows furrowing as I get up. 

“So, if you can, try to get along with Jean. It’ll help everyone in the long run.” 

“I’ll try, sir.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Going already?” Eren asks, sounding disappointed. 

It does weird things to my mind, like asking myself if I want to stay in his company a little longer. 

“Yeah, got a ship to run after all. Get some rest.” 

“Alright.” 

Eren joins us again a couple of hours later, adamant he’s back on top of his game and fully recovered. The training hadn’t been all that strenuous, so thankfully I’m led to believe him. 

“Petra initiate zero grav.” 

“Initiating.” 

The room’s gravity shifts and everyone who wasn’t paying attention to what I just said lift from the ground. Armin and Jean have to propel quickly back to the ground to fix their boots to the flooring before they make further fools of themselves. 

“Demons do not adhere to air, space or gravity. They function in all weathers.” Thankfully Hange and Moblit have been running classes on suit operation, so they seem to be adjusting well to the tech. 

“Petra, open a rift. Simulate real time.” 

“Initiating.” 

The training hall darkens into a strange hue and the squad’s suits activate their oxygen breathers, a thin mask forming around their faces as the air seems to disappear. Stars appear in the distance and the walls vanish amidst the darkness that is expertly simulated empty space. 

“Eren will need to touch the hole to close it. Can you get him close enough?” Hange asks.

“Without anyone dying?” Moblit tacks onto the end with a snort. Hange smirks. 

The simulation crackles and flickers as the space up in the center of the room starts to distort and shift. I move my head to the right and the tear looks to go left and vice versa. If I look directly at it, the direction and colour inside moves sporadically. One moment it glows a gentle, soothing, and inviting pink shade, and the next it oozes with dark red. The droplets look as if they fall straight down at me, but in reality never existed. 

It is a very convincing simulation of a rift. One of which Hange’s programming deserves applause. They worked for years on this simulator, and the fruits of their labour are evident. As soon as we’ve got this squad trained and this mission complete, we’re planning on heading over to sector M-4R14 to sell the idea to the military. We’ve beta tested it ourselves and no one’s ever been seriously injured. It’s useful, and something to look forward to, if we live. 

Anyway, back to the simulation, a few of the recruits have not seen a rift in person before. Yes, they’ve been taught about them in theory, but seeing them, even simulated, is disorientating at best. 

The squad propel upward toward the rift, Armin kindly reminding everyone to activate their visors. Looking at these things dead on in real life will fuck with your eyes, and not physically. 

Eren gives me an incredulous look as he is thrust into the training, clearly having not expected to be tested again so soon after his earlier failures. Especially given this time he has a responsibility to protect his team from the little black creatures clawing from the small gap. 

The best way to describe a rift is like a wound; a tear in spacetime. It’s a fissure made of all things in this world that ought to not exist. Molecules are arranged in a certain order in our realm of existence. Fucking with that leads to bad shit. Bad shit and dead bodies. 

Change a person’s molecular structure and if it doesn't kill them, all sorts of nasty shit can happen. 

The military isn’t kind to those who come into contact with the other realm’s fucked up shit. Physical mutations and corrupted minds are punishable by death. Unless you cut it off before anyone can find out you’ve got it.

Let’s perhaps not mention the reasons why Hange and Moblit have so many tech implants...

The guys all start making their way up toward the tear, taking good direction from Hange as they face off against any small demons that try to creep out. It doesn’t take long for them to make it to the breach, Mikasa holding off most of the attacking creatures while Eren propels up against the edge of the hole, holding a hand out and closing his eyes.

Whatever energies he has a mental link with flow through him and out through his fingertips, small tendrils of white light lacing through the edges of the tear, weaving it back together as Eren’s hair stands up on end, his whole body focused on doing his job. 

The fissure closes almost as fast as it was torn open, cutting off a demon’s arm as it tries to pass through the moment it shuts. The squad cheer and Eren turns to look in my direction with a triumphant look on his face. 

The simulation resets and everyone returns to the ground. 

“Petra, reset the simulation.”


	5. Day 3,520

After the first 50 days, the squad can now keep themselves alive during simulation. No issues to report with the ship. Second asteroid belt is expected today so the crew are on standby until we pass it. 

“Petra, distance to belt?” 

“Approximately one hour away, sir.” 

As soon as we pass this belt we can make the big leap across the sector to put us in the correct quadrant for the reported fissure. 

“There’s an armoury planet coming up after the belt,” Hange tells me. “Moblit, request clearance.” 

“Alright,” he says as he moves across the bridge to connect with the main communications console, his left hand serving as an electronic port. The chips embedded in his skin conduct the neural pathways from his brain to his hand directly into the ship, steering it where he wants it to go. He merely thinks and the ship responds to his touch. Hange makes all the necessary checks to ensure the ship is all in one piece, the shields are working and all emergency measures are operational in case of contact during the trip through the belt.

“Captain speaking, everyone report to the deck.” 

Hange and Moblit confirm checks are all in place, everything is operational and we are ready to proceed as soon as the team arrive to the bridge to take their seats. Last time we went through a meteor belt with people not buckled in their seats, there were hot drinks and food everywhere from people slipping on their asses. 

Now there is a lockdown on all liquids when we’re taking the ship through maneuvers. Sure, I have drones to do the cleaning, but I’d rather the mess not be made in the first place. 

The hallways are deliberately white for a reason. 

The squad all arrive promptly, suited, and ready to report for orders. I tell everyone to buckle up on the upper deck of the bridge behind me, the looks on their faces telling of the wall of hulking rocks visible through the front windows. 

I turn to activate the flight control column and I grip the yoke, giving it a gentle pull to calibrate. It feels light in my hands until it locks in, making the controls feel much sturdier in my grip. Once the lights all flicker blue, and the glance to the screen on my left indicates the ship is secure for manual flight, I gently push forward and the Paradis creeps closer to the slow moving belt. 

Hange is to my front left mapping the asteroids as far as the signal will allow. “Pulling up visuals, Levi,” they say, activating the visual map within my retinal chip so I can see where I’m going. Within my vision the large chunks of rock are outlined with a light green glow and a yellow glowing line indicates the best mapped direction in which to steer the ship. The ship’s speed, time, and distance to nearby debris from all angles is also visible. 

I dip the ship and slip into the asteroid belt. The ship’s bridge has almost 360 degrees of visibility and for a lot of my new recruits, disappearing into a wall of giant space rocks as far high as the eye can see is bound to be awe-inspiring and/or intimidating. 

It’s always a hairy feeling flying a chunk of metal through boulders the sizes of small moons. Should we get caught between two colliding, we’d all be toast.

It’s a tense few minutes as I navigate in. I duck and weave gently throughout the huge rocks, rubble clunking and rattling across the outside of the ship as we pass through.

As soon as the squad behind realise I know what I’m doing, the tension in the room seems to relax. This particular belt is very well packed together. The last one was a straight shot with the odd gentle bank to the left or right. This one requires focus. 

There’s a fork up ahead displayed in light yellow glow - the route hasn't mapped which direction is safer, and it’s not like you can just turn around and go back the other way if you make the wrong call. I eye the instruments quickly to ensure I’m still heading straight and not wasting time going diagonally for too long. I push the yoke and take the ship down a different way, quickly pulling up and banking right, tucking the Paradis through a narrow gap and out into a large clear stretch. 

I hit the throttle and the engines roar to life as we blast quickly through the open expanse. It won't be open for long. We glide swiftly through the empty space between the asteroids and the journey continues much like this for the next few hours. The signal crackles in and out at times as we approach the end of the belt. Hange picks up distorted messages from a nearby planet. 

Which is good news, considering I managed to steer us to the correct (ish) location to exit the belt without much of a guide. We’re out into open space after the fifth hour, the signals returning to normal and the armoury planet is visible in the distance. 

It just looks like a small grey blip in the distance, but the visuals confirm a zoomed in image of the surface, made entirely of metal, a giant orbital weapons factory. There are ships stationed idle around the outskirts of the planet, but thankfully being military and having requested access to pass closeby before, we are able to fly past uninterrupted. 

“Crew are free to resume normal activity,” I announce, returning the flight control column to allow for remote controlling and autopilot. 

“I don’t know about you lot, but I’m starving,” I say to no one in particular as I hit the upper part of the bridge. I head to the mess hall, which is similar in design to the rest of the ship - white walls, floors and ceilings, lined with gently glowing strips to illuminate the room. 

Because of the ship’s size in vast comparison to the number of crew members versus its intended capacity, meals are self catered. We keep all supplies in the kitchens and everyone pitches in to cook for each other. Instead of doing it on a rota, everyone who wants to eat helps to prepare it. With thirteen people helping, preparation is rarely longer than fifteen minutes, depending on what we're making. 

If we have time to cook, that is. Particularly gruelling training days sometimes only allow for a quick bite of a ration bar and a bottle of water. I enjoy cooking, and the others appear to enjoy helping, as well as eating a decent meal, so that’s a bonus. 

I’d rather enjoy a personal recipe than military slop any day. I’m always on the lookout for fresh ingredients whenever we’re surface level. 

Tonight we’ve got Sasha, Jean, Eren and Mikasa helping me with dinner preparation. 

Sasha is in the kitchen, washed and apron on faster than anyone else, pulling up the screen beside the countertops to scroll through recipes. The amount she’s manually added since coming aboard is impressive. I’ve got almost seven years of shared recipes from multiple crew members loaded onto the kitchen system. If needed the drones are able to process recipes by themselves, but it’s quite relaxing to do something different with my hands for a change. 

It brings the team together too. 

“Sir, which recipes are yours?” Sasha asks as I’m dipping my hands through the sanitiser - a box fixed to the wall which, with a fine laser, neutralises dirt and bacteria from your hands when inserted. 

“Seven through fifteen,” I tell her. She selects seven, some of my oldest recipes. 

“This one looks good, Petra, display recipes we have ingredients for,” Sasha asks. The screen flickers and the numbers change as Petra removes anything we’re not stocked to make. Sasha settles on a stew. It’s made from a few simple vegetables and a rodent-like creature common across worlds in our sector. 

>>>searching database for similar fauna

>>>registering sector 

>>>complete 

Jean is quick to help Mikasa to the storage room to start selecting the ingredients while Eren cleans up and waits for instruction. 

“Where is this recipe from, sir?” Eren asks. 

“Something my uncle taught me. Nothing special,” I shrug. 

Jean returns with an armful of long, crunchy vegetables and Mikasa holding a long legged, four-eared, rabbit-like creature by the hind legs. She sets up a kitchen drone to skin and prepare the meat from the bones while Jean hands a few vegetables to Eren and I. 

“I’m not much of a cook,” Eren laments. I didn’t miss the way he was scanning over the many pages of recipes I’d contributed. 

“There’s not exactly any local delicacies on 104,” Jean adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah,” Sasha adds as she pulls up a few pots and hands out some knives for us all. “Everything is imported. Try and find fresh ingredients, it’s torture!” She huffs and grabs a few potatoes from Jean, sidling up next to him to start peeling. 

After the food prep is finished, I bid everyone a quick and quiet good night as soon as the masses appear for their dinner, and return to my quarters to enjoy my meal in silence. 

I tuck myself up against the wall on the bench and activate the window view of the outside of the ship, carefully sipping at the hot stew as I gaze away into the distance. I pick up some footsteps gently plodding past and a few whirrs of the drones flying through the hallways, probably running errands and changing bed sheets. 

The ship occasionally creaks and whines, but she always flies smoothly. Most of the noises are just slight movements with travel and various pipes that carry various things. 

I find my attention drifting back to Eren, and I have to ask myself why. It’s unusual for me to take such a liking towards crew members, and a psychic at that? Dangerous territory. Sure, he’s friendly enough and fairly easy on the eyes, but that doesn’t mean I would ever initiate anything. 

We work together. The relationship must remain entirely professional, regardless of how he looks or behaves. 

...it doesn’t hurt to imagine things though. 

I finish off my stew and remain sat by the window, thinking of nothing in particular, until an idea strikes me. It’s late enough in the day that no one will think to disturb me, so I allow my eyes permission to drift to my bedside unit. It’s not common I get decent material to get off to out in the darkest corners of space. 

There’s only so much porn you can load up into the system before Hange notices and scolds you for it. Oops. 

I roll my shoulders and pick up my stew bowl, heading over to the door and depositing it into the drone hatch on the wall. The service robots will be alerted of its presence and a unit dispatched to return the bowl and spoon to the kitchen for cleaning. 

My arms and back feel tight as I start pulling off my suit for a shower and I groan as my ankle clicks painfully. I slow down when the suit is at my ankles, gingerly pulling it off while trying to cause as little discomfort as possible. 

I’ve been in better physical shape. The suit’s technology more or less keeps me functional and my skill levels keep me alive. It’s been years in space and the inconsistencies can really mess with your physiology. Most Captains man their ships for one cycle at a time, taking off a few months surface-side to get used to being a person again. 

Once naked, I grab a towel and enter the bathroom. 

“Sir,” Petra chimes in as I start the shower, cranking the power up to the highest setting to give that lovely sort of massage effect. 

“What is it?” 

“Your vitals are below average, sir. I recommend a visit to the medical bay to be reconditioned,” Petra advises. Her scans don’t miss a thing. She does a good job at keeping us all alive and is persistent in her automated concerns. The last thing I want right now however, is to worry about my aches and my pains and my dodgy ankle. All I want right now is to get clean, get dry, and get off. 

“Petra, only alert me in case of emergencies until next cycle. Lock the bedroom door, I don’t want to be disturbed,” I order her. She bleeps a confirmation and I return to my shower. 

Once done, I shuffle over to the bedside unit and fish out a vial of Karanesium. 

Karanesium is a bit of a pick me up. It’s harvested from a flower on a quarantined ex-garden world known for it’s dangerous plantlife. One sniff of the stuff and it feels, for about ten minutes, like you’re having the best orgasm of your life. It’s longer than I can manage by my own hand, so I like to keep a little bit on-board when missions are long, tedious and frustrating. I thought that these new trainees were going to be frustrating but it just turns out that there’s only one in particular, and he’s not annoying in the way I thought he’d be. 

Anyway, I figure if I’m gonna die out here, I don’t want to be pent up and irritable to boot. It helps me keep a cool head and helps me focus without the unnecessary interruptions of a libido. It’s not exactly a harmful substance but the righteous governor of the sector likes to believe it’s inhabitants should be clear of heart, mind and soul at all times, thus explaining the illegality and taboo. 

Anyway, I tuck myself beneath my sheets and start myself off. Sure, you can get off on the spot if you take a whiff of the stuff without even being hard, but I enjoy the wait. 

A hand around my cock and a hand on the vial, thumbing impatiently at the cork containing its contents as I work myself up to a steady rhythm. I get myself going just enough that my usual strict rigidity loosens enough to allow leeway. Leeway for a thought or two to slip in about a certain brunet recruit with the special powers. 

I’m imagining him bundled up under my sheets, that smart ass mouth around my cock instead of my hand. A mess of brown hair to sink my fingertips into. I briefly wonder what his hair actually feels like. We’ve not touched now I think of it. Not that we would have a reason to. This must remain purely in my mind. Never to be acted upon. 

I give my cock a squeeze when I realise I was about to come at the thought of Eren alone. I’m subtly convinced that he’s having an unconscious effect on me that I’m not aware of. Maybe that’s just my excuse for taking a liking to him like I have, and not wanting to take an ounce of responsibility for it. Maybe it’s not an excuse. Who knows. 

I nearly forget that I’m holding the karanesium, delicately loosening the grip on myself, bringing the vial up to my nose and snatching a towel from the bedside table. I kick the sheet off and cover myself with the towel, popping the cork and pressing it against a nostril. I push the other nostril shut and inhale deeply, euphoria washing over me as a satisfied groan spills from my lips. 

I don’t even register coming, my brain having been hijacked by intense waves of pleasure. My toes curl so tightly, for so long, that the muscles in my feet start to strain uncomfortably before the drug wears off. It takes about twice as long as the high to come down from it. It’s an unnatural level of pleasure. I’m half tempted to quit using the stuff, but I’m not exactly in the sort of position to settle down on a planet somewhere. 

Not for long, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly neighbourhood reminder to drink more water and go to sleep! :D


	6. Day 3,521 part 1

“Captain’s Log, day 3,521. I didn’t report in yesterday, because I was creating a different sort of Captain’s ‘log’, if you know what I mean. Nothing new to report though, scans are clean, we’re on schedule, the squad are doing well in training. I think they’re just about ready to start proper simulations.” I pause to think of anything else I could add. I hear footsteps and Mikasa appears in my screen behind me, so I switch the recording off and turn to face her. 

“Sir. We’re ready for training today.”

“Alright.” I get up and walk Mikasa to the training hall, having deemed my log good enough for today. 

“How is everyone?” I ask her. 

She shrugs. “Okay, I suppose. Nervous.”

“Hopefully today’s class will help,” I say. 

We return to the training hall in relative silence and Hange shouts at them all that their Captain is on deck. The squad all get to their feet and line up, saluting as I make my way over. 

“Petra, pull up some chairs and a screen please,” I ask. 

She configures the small area around me with a few simulated chairs. A large screen flickers to life behind me, nothing displayed. I tap at the pad on my suit’s wrist, pulling up a small screen of my own and turning to face the large one, syncing the two up as I select the first image. 

It’s a still image taken from my retinal chip. The demon in the image flickers up in front of everyone as they take their seats. It’s a small one, about the size of a person’s head. It has long arachnid-like legs dripping with oily black goo and a body covered with razor sharp spines and teeth. The goo is highly acidic and melts through almost anything. 

“Facehuggers. Someone who isn’t Armin, tell me more,” I pitch to the team. 

Marlow throws his hand up. I point at him. 

“They go for the head, hence the name,” he says. 

“Correct. Anything else?” I ask, pointing at Connie when he raises his hand. 

“They’re really weak but they’re super fast. One shot, or a single stab is enough to kill them.” 

“Correct, and most importantly?” I ask the whole squad, who reply in unison…

“Don’t touch the goo.”

“Bingo.” I switch to the next slide. This one’s bigger. About the size of Armin. Lots of legs, arms, wings, you name it - there’s probably a variation somewhere that has it. 

“Crotch grabbers, go,” I tell them to reel off what they’ve learnt, filling in on any bits they miss. 

“Butt sniffers. Big noses. Squirt stuff. Not good.”

“Arms and legs. Mind the, uh, arms and legs.” 

“Horny bastards. Hooves, horns, you name it. Not friendly. Don’t give them space to charge, ‘cause they’ll take it.” 

“Baby mamas, eggs for days.”

“Eggs for days, days of pain. Avoid.” 

“Big Daddy. Not at all sexual. Bigger than any Daddy you seen this side of the quadrant. Teamwork required for this one.” 

“Anything bigger than a big daddy is just called ‘oh fuck’ or ‘run’. They’re not common. Trust me, you’ll recognise one when you see one.” 

The rest of the day is spent cramming on theory. 

No, wait, the rest of the _week_ is spent cramming theory. There are too many variables in our line of work, so I want to teach them as many as I have come across, as soon as possible. The realm in which these creatures come from does not obey any known rules of logic. It is known as the twisting abyss for that exact reason. It makes its own rules and changes them just as fast. 

I keep the team training in various different ways over the next few weeks, taking occasional days to refresh on the knowledge side of things. Before I know it, hey look at that, it’s time for another jump. 

The jump takes us the last third of the journey where I arrange another three weeks of intense training followed by standby for the entire ship as we draw closer to our coordinates. I don’t see much of the new recruits other than at meals or at the practice hall for exercise. I’ve been holed up in the bridge keeping an eye out for anything dodgy. 

“Sir?” Eren makes himself known. 

“Yeah?” 

“I saw something,” he says. I look at him for clarity and he taps the side of his head. Oh, _that_ sort of sight. 

“What did you see?” I ask. 

“We’re close. Really close. You’re not going to see it until we’re there.” 

“Is there a way to avoid it?” Moblit adds.

Eren shrugs, pulling a face. Fat lot of use you are, Eren. As far as psychics connected to the abyss go, this one is fairly clueless. He knows jack all about his abilities, aside from what he's practiced downstairs with Hange in the rift simulator. I can't stop the groan from spilling out of me. 

“Crew stand by, suit up and gear up. You’ve got five minutes to get to the bridge.” 

I hear whooping and hollering down the hall as they start to arrive, no doubt Sasha and Connie getting a little too over-excited about fighting dangerous interdimensional monsters. I sigh, surrounded by morons. They filter in, Ymir practically carrying Historia’s gun for her. A quick nudge from the shorter woman and she hands it over. I swear if Historia told Ymir to lick the shit off her arse, she would. 

“We believe the ship’s cloaking device has been used to disguise the rift. We are expecting contact imminently. This also means we have no idea how many demons there will be. Prepare for the worst, and remember - this is not a simulation.” I instruct them once they’re all paying attention. 

“Hange scan the area for cloaking, Moblit bring the ship to a stop,” I add. Armin’s been spending a lot of time with Hange on the bridge and fortunately, his own tech modifications allows him easy communication with the Paradis. He helps with the scans. 

The flight deck is busy with activity, lights flashing and Petra relaying information to the crew as they request parameters and scans. It doesn’t take long before Moblit is working with them to move the ship into position to get a better signal. Any minute now we’re likely to be thrust into action. I get up and head to the armoury cabinet, fixing two pistols to his hips and arming myself. 

I instruct everyone to check their suits, ammunition and breathers. There’s no telling what sort of mess we’re about to be plunged into. The anticipation is tangible in the air as the tension builds. 

The view from the bridge appears, at surface level, entirely silent, and almost serene in its absence of motion or life. A couple of shooting stars flicker in the far distance, but other than that, nothing. Just the gentle twinkle of distant stars and planets. We are currently inside a quarantined zone, so the odds of bumping into any traffic are below 0.001%. 

If we die out here, it would take the nearest vessel three months to get to us. 

Likewise, it would take up to three days for a distress signal to reach anyone’s ears. 

There is no backup. 

We _are_ the reinforcements. 

“Coming in close on something, Levi,” Moblit says, despite the view still being completely void. I’m fine when I know what mess is there to deal with, but the not knowing is nerve wracking. I gesture to the squad to come with me to the air locks. 

“Hange, leave Moblit with the Paradis and join us when the ship is secure. Tell us when we’re in range.” Everyone files into the airlock with me and the outer door is entirely transparent. There is nothing but space outside. For now.

“Are we deactivating the cloak or going in?” Moblit asks over the comms. 

“Shut it off if you can, if not we’ll send in a drone, don't get too close,” Hange responds.

“Petra, activate shields and weaponry,” Moblit requests.

“Confirmed, shields at 100%. Weapon systems operational.” Petra relays.

“Interrupting cloaking malfunction in three, two…”

As Moblit counts down, I keep my eyes on the outside of the ship, watching as a piercing light flashes beyond a heavily damaged military vessel. The area is littered with small black demons, long and eel-like as they gently move through space. There are chunks of debris and chunks of frozen body parts exposed in empty space, unmoving and long dead. 

I focus my left eye on zooming in on the ship, its hull breached in multiple places. I glance over my shoulder and hit the airlock, closing the squad inside. I have to raise my voice to be heard over the pressurisation. 

“Remember your training and you will come back alive.” 

Despite said training, I'm addressing anxious faces, which is to be expected. They steel themselves and the airlock flashes from red to green, sealing us inside. The silence doesn't return though, the first sharp shots of green energy firing out from the ship toward the demons that have caught sight of us. They hurtle through space quickly, and the Paradis holds them off well for the time being. 

It doesn't take long for the demons lingering close to the other damaged ship to be drawn over from the commotion. It's a small, daunting sea of writhing purple against an empty black backdrop, rippling closer to us by the second and growing in size twice as fast. 

“This wasn't in the simulation,” Historia whispers, voice dripping with fear. 

“Damn,” Jean mutters, stepping closer to the airlock door to get a better look. He’s tentative, not getting too close. 

“Hange, we’re gonna need a cruiser to get Eren out there,” I relay, realising there are too many demons heading our direction. We can jet over there ourselves, but there’s no guarantee we won’t lose someone. It’s quite far. 

“Weapons operating at 35%,” Petra announces. We’ve got time. If we can hold them back until weapons are operating at 80% capacity, we’ll be fine. Any more than that and we’d better have Eren’s hand on that rift, else suffer the consequences. 

I hit the airlock door to deactivate and the squad follow closely to the cruiser bay below, Hange and Miké meeting up with us en route. They both pilot their own cruisers and I gather the greenhorns below the small fighters. 

“I’ll take us out to the rift. After that, Mikasa, Eren and I will get out and Eren will close the rift. Jean will pilot and the rest of you cover us. Pick a pilot and man the guns. Once the rift is sealed we secure the ship.” My orders seem clear but I ask if anyone needs clarification. No one objects. 

Good. 

Jean and Marlow are with my team, Historia, Ymir and Connie are with Miké, and Armin and Sasha are with Hange. 

The engines roar to life and Hange’s fighter shoots out first, immediately ducking and flying underneath the mass of demons headed in our direction. Miké’s fires out next and as soon as everyone aboard mine is buckled in, we’re out. The speed is enough to force me back into my seat. The force of projection makes the cruiser rattle and shake, but as soon as I push enough energy into the engines, the flight smooths out. 

Like bullets, we pierce through space, closing the distance in seconds. There are a couple of hairy moments of ducking and weaving where Mikasa must shoot down some rogue demons not interested in the clamour at the Paradis. I force the cruiser as fast as it will take us and Hange and Miké’s cruisers secure the perimeter as we draw near the fissure. 

The small, lightweight fighters have their own compact energy source, allowing them to fly just as fast as the Paradis in a pinch. They’ve got the maneuverability of a hoverbike and the toughness of a tank. I love them. They dart through clouds of demons without issue, even if it means slicing a few of them in half with the wings. 

As soon as the fissure draws near, Jean is on hand to take the flight column. We quickly exchanging controls as Mikasa unmans her gun and Eren activates his breather. Once everyone is masked, the back hatch opens and we leap out into the fray. Jean is flying away before the hatch can even close, Marlow now manning the guns to protect us. 

There is a brief moment of silence between the rift and the ship ruins before shots and guttural howls surround us. Eren propels up toward the rift, which is about one metre in width and a foot in length. A huge part of me hopes he doesn’t die. 

There aren’t any demons spewing out at the moment, nor are there any nearby ready to attack us, but that doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. I cast a quick glance up to the Paradis, which is handling the demons very nicely, almost the entire external shield is drenched in black and purple bodies. 

“Status report Moblit,” I request. 

“Shields are at 79%, weapons operating at 60%, sir,” he relays. 

We’ve still got time. If Eren closes this rift soon we’ll have an easy mission. By the looks of it, things seem to be going well for the psychic. He’s focusing on the fissure just like he practiced, hair all over the place and white light oozing from his fingertips and into the edges of the tear, delicately stitching it back together like artificial muscle. 

In the meantime I focus on clearing away any demons that try to crawl out of the hole. 

There is a blinding white light in front of me that shines brighter than any star. We all have to avert our eyes as our suits take a second to calibrate to the sudden change in exposure. By the time our visors have corrected themselves, the light has died down to a gentle glow where the fissure has been entirely sealed. It’s hard to tell what state Eren is in, given he’s free-floating. 

Mikasa is at his side in an instant and I ward off another stray demon. The Paradis should be able to handle the rest of the demons, so we wait for the cruisers to return from the fray. In the meantime I thrust up to meet with Mikasa and check up on Eren. 

“Sir, he’s not responding,” Mikasa says. I lean in and take Eren’s wrist. His vitals are still fine enough. He often experiences exhaustion after closing rifts in the simulations. This is a little bigger than any he has practiced on, and my scans indicate he’s successfully sealed it for good. 

“He’ll be fine. We need to wait for the Paradis to clear the area before returning. Jean, come pick us up,” I order. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The cruiser swings by with the rear doors open ready for us to get inside. 

“Take us back to the ship,” I order Jean as I’m moving up the fighter toward the cockpit. Mikasa straps Eren in and returns to the mounted guns with Marlow. 

“We’ve got incoming!” Marlow reports, the distinct pops of energy blasts sounding from his side of the fighter, followed by a loud thud. The small ship tumbles sideways, hundreds of tiny black insect-like demons chewing at every surface. 

I’m thrown across the deck and into the furthest wall, knocking me out cold.


	7. Day 3,521 part 2

I come around from my disorientation and we're still on the fighter, only no demons in sight. We’re in the jet hangar on the Paradis. By the looks of it, we just arrived, too. My head throbs where I hit it and I can feel the blood oozing down my neck. 

I suppose this will force me to finally visit the med bay. 

The engines cut and Jean steps through as the back hatch opens. Marlow is helping Mikasa haul Eren’s sorry arse off the fighter, and Jean offers me a hand to stand. 

“Is everything secure?” I can’t hear any alarms. 

“More or less, sir. Everyone is back alive,” Jean tells me. 

I can still hear the occasional crackle of energy erupting from the ship’s defenses, however it’s nothing compared to the constant hum of fighting off an army of demons. 

I make my way from the hangar back to the bridge and Hange and Miké are already back, a few of the others dotted about too. Armin is keen to learn from the two techs so he’s often found nearby. 

I round the map table and pull up the console. Shields are recharging and weapons are cooling, only 10% of them remain operational - to tidy up the dribs and drabs left outside. The ship is slowly returning to her usual volume of quiet. 

“Holding for orders, sir,” Moblit says as he approaches. 

“Scan the dead ship and I’ll go to medical. Back in a minute,” I say. “Is anyone else injured?” I address the squad as they filter in. 

Eren seems to have collected himself. Everyone looks shaken, but not fatigued. My trip to the medical bay is brief. I enter the self scan unit and it evaluates a long list of shit hidden under my suit. The only one that matters is the head injury, so I schedule a clean and seal and allow the drones to patch me up. 

Molecular manipulation is a beautiful technology. The fine-point laser guns they use seal and cleanse wounds in seconds. I make quick work of the blood on the back of my neck with a wet towel, but I’ll have to deal with the stuff oozing down the back of my suit later. 

In less than ten minutes I’m out and back toward the bridge. I don’t have time to sit around and get everything analysed and fixed. I just get a surface patch so I can get back out asap. 

“We’ve got life forms registering all over the ship. The place is riddled,” Hange pulls up the map at the flight deck table and everyone gathers around to look. 

“Our best bet is to enter through the utility bay,” Hange says. 

“What are these?” Armin points to a few little green dots on the map. The rest clocking demons are red.

“Our mission objective has changed somewhat. These are survivors,” Hange explains. 

So, we’ve got a rescue mission ahead of us. I squint at the map. The number is unclear. 

“How many survivors?” I ask. I’m not the only one with the same question. 

“Hard to tell, there must be some interference,” Hange shrugs. 

“Trying to contact the ship now,” Moblit announces from across the room. The control panels flash and beep and he connect, trying to pull up an audio feed connected to the ship across from us. I zoom in on the map, reading the blurry name on the hull. 

_Marley_

I’ve never heard of it. Must be another military sector. 

The audio feed cracks and fizzles a few times. Moblit announces himself and who we are, seeing if we get any reply. 

We wait. Nothing. He tries again. We wait.   
A voice. 

It’s fuzzy and unclear, but it seems the message was received. He tries to clear up the signal, but the interference is blocking any clear communication. 

“I guess we’re gonna go pay them a visit in person, then,” I beckon everyone to the rear airlock and the squad checks over their suits and ammunition. Moblit brings the Paradis side by side with the Marley and the ruined side of the ship comes into view. Moblit uploads all of the team members with maps and syncs our comms. 

“Testing,” Moblit says, to which everyone confirms their lines work. 

“Going for a closed loop. The interference shouldn’t cause too much trouble. If you need to contact out, namely to the survivors, let me know and I’ll open feedback.” 

“Roger that,” I tell Moblit as the airlock works its magic. 

Suited and ready to go, the airlock opens with a hiss and we all push off into the space outside and make a swift entrance into the open loading bay. The feeling of the ship is very ominous. Something awful happened here and the place radiates death and destruction. There are burnt and broken fragments of machinery, wiring and various supply crates scattered around. 

We pass occasional crew members suspended in time, frozen to death with the lack of atmosphere. It used to send shivers down my spine looking at the poor souls. Life stripped from them in one of the most terrifying ways possible, only for the abyss of space to immortalise their fear like morbid trophies. Their weight seems heavy as I have to push a few aside to get through the doors at the back of the utility bay. 

Judging by the fingernails missing and the red smears on the door, they must have been scrabbling at the door after being locked out. 

“Looks like they tried to get back in?” Sasha says as we pass. 

“That or they were locked out on purpose,” Jean adds with a huff. 

I get little huffs of surprise and shock from Historia, indifference from Mikasa, and Eren just glares at everything. 

“They’ll pay for what they did,” Eren says, gritting his teeth. 

We work our way quietly through the large, dark corridors. The lights flicker and there are very few demonic creatures around. Not yet anyway. We’d usually level the entire ship using the Paradis, but since we have survivors, we can’t. 

“Moblit any luck on clearing up that signal?” Hange asks. 

“Not yet.” 

“Keep moving,” I remind everyone. “Be ready.” 

Grips on weapons are tightened with a creak of the suit gloves and I remove the safety from my pistols as we round a corner slowly. There is a small group of crotch grabbers and a few horny bastards, as I like to call them, and they are reasonably slow to react as we mow them down. 

The longer the mission goes on for, the more Eren grows unusually quiet. 

We clear the ship’s main deck of demons with relative ease, each and every single one of them seeming slow and dormant and unexpecting. It’s like nothing I’ve seen before. 

“This isn’t normal, Levi,” Hange says as we enter the ship’s training hall. It’s full of demons, but they’re limp and pathetic looking. They’re slumped against the walls and floors, some half and half undecided upon which reality they want to be part of. It’s almost like they’ve gone to move between rooms and fallen asleep halfway, getting stuck in the walls.

I shoot a pistol off into the room to agitate them all. 

None of them react. 

Eren doesn’t even come into the room. I move over to him and narrow my eyes, looking into his. The pupils have blown black, the entire eye turning black, creeping even into the whites. 

Usually this only happens when psychics are about to do some wibbly shit. 

“Eren?” Mikasa nudges him. He doesn’t respond. 

“You three, clean out this room,” I order the three closest to me, who proceed to fire at all the demons giving up on life in the training hall. 

“There are more of us here,” Eren announces, his voice void of any of his usual personality, flat and monotonous. I exchange a look with Miké but he shrugs. Armin moves himself around in front of Eren, holding his shoulders. 

“Who else is here?” he asks with purpose. 

“The survivors,” Eren clarifies. 

“Where are they, Eren?” Armin asks. 

“We are in the engine decks. Five of us.” By now, it’s clear it’s not Eren speaking. 

I order Hange to get us a route to the lower decks while we wait for Eren’s ‘transmission’ to conclude. Armin does his best to get more detail out of him, but he blinks and his eyes return to normal quickly. 

He rubs his temples and pulls a face. 

“I know where they are,” he tells Hange, holding a hand over theirs to interrupt the map download. “I know a quick way, too. The survivors are holding off the demons for us. They’re like me.” 

“What, all of them?” Hange asks. Eren simply nods. 

“That’s why they’re the only ones left alive. They barricaded themselves in, put up the cloak and interrupted the signals,” Eren says. Even though doing those things doesn’t make sense. 

Something stops me asking my questions aloud. 

“Be alert regardless, this could be a trap,” I warn them all, just in case. They all nod and hum their understanding and we follow Eren down the long corridors taking out any slow moving demons on our way. 

Hange pauses, then activates a laser drone, letting it scout out the ship in our absence and kill off any stray demons it encounters while they’re still feeling lazy and slow. It whirrs to life and the guns unpack from its sides as it floats off through the ship, following a pre-loaded map of the dead ship. Moblit will have eyes on the thing, so he can always let us know if it spots anything unusual. 

Moblit dispatches a small load of tiny ball-like cameras that erupt from the drone like baby spiders, each propelling off into different directions. This will give him eyes in as many places as they can fit. They can’t exactly pass through airtight doors but they can at least allow him to connect to the Marley interface through electrics panels.

The squad carry on through the dead corridors, coming across plenty of dormant demons, caught in the middle of whatever it was they were doing. Suspended in animation, just like the crystallised corpses of the men and women they slew.

We are led through the eerily quiet ship riddled with demons, ending up descending down a service pipeline and finally reaching an airlock leading into the service tunnels running alongside the engine decks. 

The tunnels are half glass, views looking out over the engine halls. The halls are roughly 200m wide and twice as tall. There are catwalks and ladders interconnecting multiple workstations suspended throughout the open space and a collection of huge reactors at the back, connected to the engines running along the bottom under gridded footwalks. 

The service tunnels are built with multiple hand-bars along its walls, allowing for swift zero-grav travel. You have a lot to pull on, allowing yourself to shoot through the tunnels at a decent speed. It’s not as quick as internal ship transportation, but it will do. It’s a straight shot to the rear decks of the ship... 

...and there’s no demons. 

Bonus. 

“Scans are still struggling to pick up on the number of survivors,” Armin says, almost in passing as he thinks aloud. It must be due to psychic interference, I assume, which is what Eren suggests in response. 

We hit the end of the tunnel and everyone takes it in turns to go in pairs through the narrow airlock. I head through first with Hange and the rest filter in once we confirm the other side is clear. The gravity is on, and the atmosphere is pressurised, so suit breathers are deactivated. 

I can’t help but feel like something's off. I know I’m not the only one feeling it either. 

“Any luck, Moblit?” I ask. 

He denies success. 

Once Eren is through the airlock and everyone else is ready to go, we follow him through the tall, wide service halls to a small subsector of offices. He holds a hand up and gets us to wait as he approaches a door with a smoking console preventing it from being opened. Someone didn’t want anyone getting through here. His hair sticks up on end and his eyes black over again for a short moment before the door clicks and slides open. 

I suppose I’ll admit he isn’t as useless as I thought he’d be. He’s probably the most committed person here. He’s not the most skilled, but he serves a purpose in other ways. 

My grip tightens minutely on the handles of my guns as a figure steps out from the office to greet Eren. I feel myself relax as soon as I see the uniform. The guy is equipped in a similar grade suit, only his has a small star on the chest, indicating the current highest ranking officer aboard. The man is tall, a fair bit older than myself, with long grey hair and a pair of bionic eyes. They are a fairly crude model, the workings visible through the outside. Mine just looks like an ordinary eye when I’m not using any of its functions. 

I wouldn’t want two of them though. 

Anyway, his team of survivors filter out afterward and as claimed, there are five of them. Three men and two women. They all look a bit worse for wear, most of them injured. My retinals pick up their suit numbers and ID chips, but they introduce themselves anyway. 

“I am Zeke and this is what is left of our crew.”

There’s Annie, a Trostian halfblood. She’s got the telltale blue complexion, only less spikes and more Eldian features such as light yellowy-white hair and fingernails. She comes across as a little sheepish at first, but her physique suggests she is anything but meek. Pieck. Long brunette hair, hobbling a bit, probably has a few broken bones in her legs. She’s propped up by Reiner, clearly a fighter. Stocky, blond, young faced. Finally, Bertolt towers over the lot of them. This one looks the quietest of them all. Ironic, given you could command a lot of respect with a stature like that.

Then again, since when does height make a difference when earning people’s trust?

“Captain, the ship is clear. Scans are coming back clean,” Moblit reports. 

“Great, we’ve got five survivors, ready some rooms.” 

“Roger that,” Moblit confirms. 

“I’m Levi, captain of the Paradis, this is my squad.” I tell Zeke, who shakes my hand. I can’t place the sensation but something still feels _off_. 

“We were here to close the breach, did you seal it?” He asks. I nod. 

“All five of you?” I ask, eyes looking over his survivors again. They’re all listed as Psy. 

“It was ten times the size before we arrived,” he explains, which makes the number of them understandable. Why they couldn’t just send one singular, higher ranking psy, I don’t know, but hey. Different divisions have different rules I suppose. 

I’ll have to look into that one. 

Their ID’s are scanning as clean, though. They’re definitely military, even if something smells a bit fishy. 

“We can take you on board. Where is your nearest outpost?” I ask as we start down the halls slowly. Armin has already mapped out our nearest escape pod. I’m not sure if this lot are fit to suit it back to the ship, so it’s best to fly. 

“Sector 3-096. You?” 

“Sector 5,” I tell him, sparing the specifics. I notice Annie walking closer to the front when I mention her home-sector. “You guys are a long way from home.” 

“Yeah, it’s been a long mission. We departed roughly 2 cycles ago,” Zeke informs me. (That’s 20 months, or, 1,000 days.) 

Hange and Armin take the lead in directing us through the engine halls, through a few service ducts and through an airlock to the closest evacuation bay.

“Reiner, right?” I overhear Eren introducing himself. ”How did you guys make the demons do that?” 

“That was Annie,” Reiner explains. 

Annie clearly also overhears. 

“I’ll go over the _specialties_ of my team, once out of here, yes?” Zeke says to me with a peculiar smile. Psychics make me uncomfortable at the best of times. Having five more to deal with is going to be a right shit storm. Fingers crossed they respect the house rules. Zeke seems like a reasonable guy, but there’s no telling without getting to know him. I fear we may clash if his squad doesn’t keep in line. I’m not here to order them around, but at the end of the day I do outrank them all. 

I hate pulling rank, but I will if I have to.


	8. Day 3,522

We located an operational escape pod and made it back to the Paradis in one piece. I insist the Marleyans visit medical, eat, and sleep before we meet to discuss things. Our mission of securing the fissure is complete. What we do on our way back is up for us to decide. 

“Moblit, can you patch us through to Legion headquarters? I need to speak to the Commander,” I ask of him. He’s more than happy to oblige. It takes a moment for the signal to connect, but surely enough Commander Smith’s chiselled features and immaculate blond hair lights up our comms monitor. 

“Levi,” he greets me. I nod at him. 

“Mission 48-D is complete, however we have acquired sector 3 survivors. They’re military psychics. Five of them.” 

“Where is their nearest outpost?” Erwin inquires. I wave him off as I pace the flight deck. 

“I haven’t found out yet, but something fishy is going on,” I warn him quietly. “There were five of them on a mission where you’d only need one.” 

“Military ships take on extra bodies all the time,” Erwin reasons. 

“Yes, but one with the ability to quell all demonic activity across an entire battleship? I’ve never seen that before,” I add, quietly. 

Erwin looks thoughtful. “Are they on board with you?” 

“Yeah, I’ll send over their scans now,” I say, getting the console to do a read on my retinal chips to relay the data. 

“I’ll have someone analyse this. In the meantime just start heading back,” he tells me before we hang up. I sit down in my chair and groan. Slouching, I tap out a request to summon Eren to the bridge. 

I muster up the energy to at least sit up straight before he arrives. Now I’m not doing anything, the adrenaline wearing off, I can feel how heavy my body is. Maybe I should decrease the gravity levels instead of dealing with the issue. 

“Sir,” Eren arrives, saluting. I wave the formality off and beckon him over as I get up, getting him to follow me out to one of the officer’s meeting rooms. Once he’s inside, I activate the room’s anti-psychic cloaking measures, cranking it up to the highest setting. Eren falters in his stride toward a chair, stumbling before looking at me with a concerned and slightly frightened expression.

“Don’t shit yourself, I just don’t want anyone listening in,” I explain. The cloaks effectively drain them temporarily by emitting special sound waves that fuck with their heads. Crank it up high enough past the safety parameters and you can easily kill a psychic without a single normal person feeling a thing.

He presses his hands to the side of his head, wincing. I’ll admit it’s probably a bit overkill for someone of Eren’s rank, but our guests are packing way worse. 

“I’ll make this quick, you hear anything, you see anything, you feel anything so much as a tickle on your arse, you tell me.”

“Alright, I will,” Eren complies quickly, likely wanting to get out as soon as possible. 

“I don’t trust them,” I tell him bluntly. 

“I know,” he says. Judging by the look on his face, he saw this chat coming. Now that’s been cleared up, I reset the blockers and Eren sighs with relief. 

“I had another question,” I say. Eren looks at me expectantly. “Have you had any clarity on your… speciality?” 

Eren looks thoughtful. 

“I suppose I have had a few moments of foresight, nothing too out of the ordinary though. It’s mainly just small abilities from each branch,” he shrugs. 

“So you’re able to tap into all of them, but weakly so?”

“Pretty much,” Eren clarifies with a shrug. 

“As soon as you know, let me know. Likewise, if you get any future visions, don’t spare me the details, especially if it affects the wellbeing of anyone on board,” I tell him. He nods and confirms that he will, as soon as something may happen. 

A beat of silence. I recall what he just said. 

“What do you mean a few moments of foresight?” I ask. 

Eren looks a bit sheepish. He turns beet red when I ask him to spit it out, spluttering for a response. I narrow my eyes at him. My visuals read his increased pulse and perspiration, so I try a different tactic, taking a seat opposite him. 

“If it’s important to know, and you need me to keep it to myself, you can trust me,” I offer. He swallows and looks no less nervous. I wait, seeing if he’ll fess up the information willingly. 

“It’s nothing important like that, sir,” he manages to get out. Why he’s still blushing I have no idea. 

“Let me guess, you’re gonna catch some squad members doing the walk of shame from their quarters?” I jest. 

Eren’s face just turns brighter and he looks at the table. “Something like that,” he mumbles. 

Hange interrupts the moment of questioning with a comms call stating that Zeke is up in the bridge.

“If you fancy telling me later, maybe over a drink, I’m all ears,” I tell Eren before getting up. 

Once back around the corner at the bridge, Zeke is waiting for me with Annie. They’ve had half a day to rest and clean up, and although there’s a few bruises leftover, they look in much better shape than they did yesterday. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, is this a good time to talk?” Zeke smiles. Since arriving they have had their military ID chips updated with clearance to basic amenities. They still have to be invited into the bridge. The ship won’t let them in by themselves. 

We pull up some seating and position ourselves around the map table. Annie remains as quiet as usual, keeping close to Zeke and keeping quiet, giving off an unsettling aura. I’m likely not the only person she makes feel this way. It’s a dense, intimidating sensation and I can’t quite put my finger on it. 

“I’m sure you’ve run scans on us by now, but I wanted to introduce ourselves properly. Just so we have clarity,” Zeke says. 

“Alright,” I say. 

“I’m not here to undermine your authority, nor are any of my psychics. We’ll be under your command, as guests on your ship. Our closest outpost is actually in sector 5. We’re going in the same direction.” 

I’m impressed. I let it show on my face. He knows his place, at least.

“We’re all biomancers except for Annie, who is a telepath. That is how she was able to manipulate the demons using her aura. She’s a high rank, hence the increased outreach. Rest assured she will not try anything while aboard your ship. Your men are safe,” Zeke continues. 

“Question,” I pitch. 

Zeke nods me on, to continue. 

“If she’s able to do that, why are there five of you aboard the Marley?” My left eye clocks his pulse as he replies. 

“Annie was on board to handle this specific mission, the rest of us were en route to headquarters using the Marley as transportation. We weren’t part of her original unit to begin with, we were helping out on this occasion because it suited both of our needs.” 

I still don’t trust them, but it does make sense. 

I glance at Eren standing at the door and Annie looks his direction. I feel my eye twitch, as if some subconscious part of me doesn’t want her looking at him. Where in the abyss did that come from? 

“Well, if you’re headed back to the same place, it’ll take us just under three months to get back. Make yourself comfortable I guess. Moblit can show you how to access external comms systems if you need to contact your Commander,” I tell them. 

“Thank you,” Zeke says as we stand. 

“This is my squad, feel free to introduce yourselves if you meet them in the halls,” I tell them, pulling up a chart of everyone on board. Zeke’s optical bio-implants flicker as they save the images. I still feel weary about giving them more information than I’m comfortable with, but I don’t want them to suspect anything. If I can just deliver their asses to sector five with no hitches, we’ll be golden. 

I’m itching to get up and get out of here, and to pull Eren with me out of some surprising sense of protection. I can’t explain it but I want him as far away from these people as possible. 

I make my exit as smooth as possible, taking Eren by the arm once we’re out of sight and dragging him down the hall and into the next free room. By the time I let go of him, the imprint of his arm in my grip still burnt into my hand, my senses return to me and I stare at him for a long moment. He looks confused and approaches me slowly. 

“Is everything alright, sir?” Since when did his voice sound so… 

“Sir?” Eren presses. I groan and rub my face with the heel of my hand. 

“Annie gives me the creeps,” I tell him. 

“Don’t let them get to you?” Eren phrases it like a question. This is making me want to get my anti-psy chip updated. I need to know how well it works. 

An idea strikes me. 

“Eren, do me a favour?” I pitch. His brows pinch in confusion and he nods obediently. 

“Anything, sir.” 

“Give me an idea,” I order him. 

“Excuse me?”

“Try to put an idea in my head, see if it works.” 

Eren frowns. He doesn’t understand the request, but looks like he’s focusing anyway. He’s not subtle with his abilities at all. Annie looks like she can influence the entire ship without so much as batting an eyelid and here’s Eren, eyes bleeding into white and his hair turning static as he tries to give me a good idea. 

Maybe he’ll get me to think about what to have for dinner. 

Perhaps he’ll get me thinking about where to take my next shit. 

What I don't expect, is for him to lean in close with no apparent intention on stopping. Realising at the last moment that I can't have any fraternising on record through my optics implant, I put a hand between us and push him away quickly.

“The fuck are you doing?” I spit, still honestly surprised he’d try something like that. He’s never shown any interest in me up to this point. None that I’ve noticed anyway. I’ve had my fair share of people in my bed, I’m sure I’d notice something like that. 

“Well that proves that your chip works,” Eren says with a poorly hidden hurt look on his face. Damn, this kid is too easy to read. I don’t press for any further details and Eren doesn't offer any, so after a moment of awkward silence, I dismiss him. 

Alone in the office, I groan and rub my eyes. He had clearly been trying to influence me to not push him away, and shame washes me from head to toe upon realising the thought did in fact cross my mind. Procedure is what stopped me. 

More importantly though…

“Hange I need my anti-psy chip updated. I think it’s malfunctioning.”

Hange gives me a funny look, and I’m directed to take a seat in the med bay. Hange runs a few tests on the implants under the skin of my nape, and hums thoughtfully, as though something were amiss.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You haven’t got one…”


	9. Day 3,542

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added links to the epic artwork at the start of chapter 1! Go check them out! :D

We’re two weeks into our return to sector 5. 

Zeke’s group have been getting along with the crew quite well. I haven’t detected any mishaps, nor has anyone come to me with any grievances. Whenever I observe them all in the mess hall together, they pull their weight, mind their own business and treat everyone politely. I can’t fault them. 

It takes these couple of weeks for the suspicion to quell, but since they’ve not shown me any reason to be wary of them. They’re psychics though, so, while I may not be so untrusting of them, that doesn’t mean I’m going to rely on them to save my skin.

Eren’s been avoiding me. No surprises there. 

He can barely maintain eye contact. 

I haven't been able to get it off my mind. He has foresight about something that is going to happen, tries something related to said foresight, that being trying to kiss me, and then avoids me like fucking Krolvian dick rot afterwards. 

It’s bad enough that I’ve thought about him more than once while in the confines of my own quarters, more often than not the shower, but now I’m sat in the pilot’s chair thinking about the damn brat while avoiding big ass rocks. 

Not to mention the paranoia. I mostly feel the same about myself knowing I never had a psy-chip, but, when did I start thinking I had one? It’s been months. Longer than I’ve known Eren. For all his foresight abilities he wouldn’t be able to affect me like this before even meeting me. I rule him out as a suspect. 

I’ve also only just met the five on board from the Marley crew. Couldn't have been them. 

I spend nights upon nights filtering through my optic records, trying to pick out any scanned psychics I might have banged in the last year. It fills me with embarrassment when I look back at how many people I’ve bedded. Sure, my line of work doesn’t exactly allow for settling down and having kids, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have company. 

We get to the first jump sequence. Moblit, Hange and Miké are with me on the bridge, making preparations and setting coordinates. Nothing out of the ordinary. We make the first hyperspace leap. It takes about two minutes. Moblit is scanning for our location and time. He hums. 

“Sir, you might want to look at this,” he says gravely, pulling up the maps. 

“Where the hell are we?” I can’t make sense of the map. 

Suddenly it flickers and the ship’s position changes on the map, to where we should be. 

“Huh, must have been a glitch after the jump,” Hange says with a shrug. Moblit runs a few tests as per my request to make sure everything is working correctly, just in case. 

“Everything’s coming back clean, sir,” he confirms after diagnostics are complete. That’s a relief, and one less thing to be paranoid about. Happy with the state of everything on the bridge, I let Moblit get back to work and leave to get some food and some sleep. 

I have encouraged the squad to keep busy on the way back by honing their skills and resting. They are free to train and move about the ship as they see fit during this down-time.

I end up bumping into Eren, Mikasa and Armin in the mess hall. 

After Eren ignores me for the entire meal, I approach him and his colleagues. “When you have a minute this evening, swing by my office. Just a quick catch up, is all,” I tell him, trying my best to seem like I’m in a good mood. He nods obediently and I take my leave, waiting for him in the office. 

When he does arrive, I’m halfway through my evening tea and halfway through my daily log report. I pause the recording and dig through the drawer in front of me, fishing out a contact lense which fits nicely over my bionic implant, blocking out my vision in that eye. This also blocks anything from being recorded. It’s fairly obvious when I’ve got it in, as it blacks out the whole eye. 

Once that’s been dealt with, I wave the door open and Eren is stood there looking just as sheepish as he has been all week. 

“Sir?” He approaches the desk. I gesture to a seat and he perches, clearly unable to get comfortable. 

As much as I want to flat out ask if he wants to fuck, I refrain. 

“I’m just concerned. You seem quiet lately…” I decide to bait him instead. It’s strangely endearing the lengths he will go to to gain my approval. 

Fuck, when did I start thinking he was _endearing_? I’m a military space captain, who fights demons for a living. I shouldn’t find this shit cute. There is officially something wrong with me, and I fear it’s got zilch to do with any of the supernatural creatures aboard. 

“Um, well,” he starts, finally looking me in the eye and noticing my retinal cover. Something in his eyes change, they narrow ever so slightly as he studies me. He’s worked out that I’ve got no intention of this meeting being official in any way. He’s smarter than a lot of the crew give him credit for, often thinking of him as hot headed and impatient. 

“Well?” I press. We all may have two more months to go, but I don’t have all day. 

“I had a premonition, that uh, we’d end up.. you know…” Eren tries. It doesn’t take long for me to put the pieces together, given how skittish he’s been. It’s fun teasing him. 

“No?” I feign, holding back every cell in my body that is trying to make me smile cruelly. Eren’s face has gone bright red. Another sight that never grows old. 

Perhaps I’m some sort of sadist. 

Eren shifts uncomfortably. “I knew you were going to make me say it,” he admits, sighing. 

“Is that foresight or just common sense?” I smirk. 

“Bit of both?” Eren shrugs. I scoot forward in my chair and lean my elbows on the desk, dismissing my files up on the screen. 

“And where exactly was the deed done?” I ask. Eren’s eyes drift reluctantly to the table my arms lean on and my gaze follows. “Really?” 

Eren nods, averting his eyes. Flirting is less fun when the other person knows exactly what’s going to happen and where. 

“When?”

Eren shrugs. 

“Gonna help me out with any of the details or are you going to make me work for it?” I guess there’s no sense in hiding my interest now. Fraternising rules appear to have long left my mind, nowhere near my conscious thoughts. I don’t even have time to think of how odd it is, my feet moving me up and around the opposite side of the desk, leaning against it. Eren makes no attempt to move from his spot. 

“You can always change the future, you know? Get up and leave?” I offer. 

Eren grimaces. “There’s not much point,” he says, maintaining his nonchalance. For once, I can’t read him. He’d usually be getting worked up about something by now, his emotions clear on his face. He looks thoughtful at best. 

“Why’s that?” I ask. 

“Because in the vision,” he says, standing and stepping closer. “We both kinda enjoyed it.” 

There’s a heat between us, and I can’t make out whether it’s from Eren’s red face or all of the sexual tension in the air. Either way, we don’t wait for handwritten invitations. Eren’s hands are on my hips, and mine hold his arms, our lips meeting. He’s as bad at kissing as I had expected. Too much teeth, too hard handed, too much tongue too soon. Like, fuck. I wince and push him off. 

“We’ve got two months you know? Slow down,” I tell him. 

Eren bristles and flushes with embarrassment. I coax him back in with a lighter, slower kiss. He’s still leaning into me a little more insistently than necessary, my ass pressed up against the desk. It doesn’t take long for things to grow heated and his hands grip the backs of my thighs and lift me up onto the edge of the desk. 

I grunt at the rough treatment and hook my heels behind Eren’s legs, wanting to pull us closer against one another. To feel him in his entirety after a good long few weeks of longing for it. He tugs insistently at the neckline of my flight suit and I oblige him, unsealing the top to allow him access. 

“You’re more confident than I thought you’d be,” I admit as his hand slides under my suit and pushes it from my shoulder, kissing me quickly before pushing at the other side. 

“I’ve seen this play out about twelve different times,” Eren says with a huff against my lips.

“You gonna choose the one that feels the best?” I smirk. 

Eren helps me out of the sleeves of my suit, his hands dipping under the fabric, stopping just above the curve of my arse. 

“And what if they were _all_ great?” 

It’s Eren’s turn to smirk. I undo his suit and start pushing him out of it, our lips still connected. His hands squeeze at my hips and suddenly the metal of the desk feels all too firm. 

“Are we going back to my room, or fucking on the desk?” I ask when we break to work off the rest of our suits. My ankle twinges when I pull my foot free but thankfully it’s dull enough a pain to ignore. Having had to scoot off the desk to get the suit free, Eren’s now got free access to slink his hands around to my arse cheeks, pulling us flush against each other in our standard issue boxer briefs

“Well, eight out of twelve visions involved going back to your room… after doing it on the desk,” Eren says, thumbs toying with the idea of hooking the waistband of my underwear from behind. 

“Someone’s feeling confident,” I remark. Eren just accentuates his cheeky smirk with a squeeze to my arse before lifting me back up to the edge of the desk. 

“Seriously though,” I interrupt him from kissing me again, and he has the gall to look put out by it. “I ache like a motherfucker. You can top if you-” 

“-mind the ankle.” Eren finishes my sentence, further cementing the proof that he’s already seen where this is going. It’s surreal knowing I have little to no control over what happens, nor can I realistically surprise someone who knows exactly what is to come. 

I suppose I’ll just have to surprise myself by acting a little out of the ordinary. I might just ask for things I’ve never considered before. Shaking things up a bit is hardly going to kill me. That and I feel like it’s a challenge. I’ve never slept with someone with foresight before. 

This ought to make things interesting. 

“You want us to move, after we get our suits off?” Eren asks, looking at the suits still crumpled up on the floor by our feet. Neglected, in our haste to get close to each other. 

“We’re showering first, I hope you saw that in advance,” I tell him, pushing him aside and heading for the towels. No one would say a word if you’re strolling through the halls in your skivvies with a towel in hand. It’s obvious where you’re going. The crew do it all the time. Hell, I do it all the time. 

“Twelve out of twelve times, yes,” Eren murmurs.

“Petra, we’re not here,” I tell her as we leave my room. She understands the command. 

“Activated, sir,” she confirms. 

We reach the showers and there’s other recruits in there at the same time, so we keep our hands to ourselves. Glances are exchanged throughout, however, and it’s probably the quickest, most thorough shower of Eren’s life. We enter the drying chamber together and it makes quick work of evaporating the damp, drones built into the walls to deal with the hair blow drying. 

Once clean and dry, we both head down the corridors, towels around waists and flight suits and undies in hand, until we reach my quarters. 

As soon as the doors shut, it’s not nearly as heated as I had imagined. I cast a look over to Eren who is still by the door. 

“So if a vision doesn’t pan out in any of the twelve ways I saw, does that mean there’s a chance of it happening more than once?” he asks himself, not looking up at all. I guess half of his cockiness was down to winging it and making shit up as he went. I can’t complain, I ended up half hard. 

“Depends how well you perform at the interview,” I say with an impressive straight face. When Eren pulls a face I have to remind him I’m fucking with him. Only then does he relax. 

“There are so many ways this could go wrong, sir,” he tells me as though he were trying to back out. My sexual frustrations are far beyond caring.

“There are certain benefits to screwing the Captain. Sure, it’s probably not the smartest idea, but I know how to keep out of trouble,” I reassure him, approaching with an arm outstretched, taking hold of his wrist gently and pulling on it. He obeys and follows me through the main living area to the bedroom. 

The earlier impatience and neediness has all but bled out of us both and I push him gently to the bed with full intention on getting that fire rekindled. 

“How ‘bout we get things rolling again?” I suggest, kissing him again. He seems to perk up once I take the initiative, hands finding their way back to my hips and untucking my towel.

His towel doesn’t last much longer either.


	10. Day 3,543

Three rounds and I’m knackered. 

I’m done, pressed against the sweaty bed sheets with Eren laying heavily against my side. 

“Move. You stink, and you’re heavy,” I complain. Eren doesn’t move so I elbow him. He grunts into my neck and I lean away from him. 

“Maybe I can make you forget all about how much I smell?” Eren smirks, his hand travelling beneath the sheet covering my lower half. 

“No,” I tell him, swatting his hand away and pushing myself up. I leave the room straight away and head for my personal shower. By the time Eren appears at the door I’m pretty much done with washing, stepping out and towelling off. 

The only downside to my personal shower is my quarters don’t have space for a dryer, so I have to either go down the hall or dry off manually. I usher Eren into the shower and he obeys, clear that he’s not getting any more action until we’re clean. 

While he’s washing I take the opportunity to check in with the bridge, making sure we’re still on schedule. The map flickers to life beside my bed and I wave it away once I’m happy that it’s still displaying the correct information. 

Eren enters a few moments later, towelling his hair, buck naked. 

“You’re getting the floor wet,” I chastise him. 

“It’ll dry,” he counters, approaching until he’s an arm’s length away. I close the rest of the gap and stretch up onto my toes to reach for a kiss. Eren obliges me, leaning down to better slot our lips together. 

“So I guess you have to work today?” Eren asks, sounding disappointed. 

“Just enough to ensure the place doesn’t fall to shit,” I tell him, already concocting plans on how to efficiently shirk my duties - while still ensuring everything gets done. 

“Most functions are automatic. There’s not much to do on long hauls,” I say, kissing him again. “Perhaps later we can meet back up?” I ask. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Good, I’ll call for you when I’m done? Should be about four hours.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Eren says, saluting me with a small smirk before he heads for his flight suit. 

Needless to say I’m distracted. All fucking day. 

Green-yellow eyes, scruffy brown hair that’s tantalizingly long enough to pull at from behind. Hardened skin and fingernails far too clean to belong to someone of his age. The way his face lit up last night with pleasure - it haunts me all day. I find myself up on the bridge running a few reports and where I’m usually very sharp, I’m slow to respond because my thoughts have trailed again. 

More than once throughout my shift on the bridge do I have to rearrange myself through the flight suit. More than once do I think of fobbing off my tasks to Hange or Moblit. Tell them I’ve fallen ill or something. Tell them not to bother me. 

Distractions aside I eventually manage to finish all of my work, my daily log and my usual catch up with Erwin. I pay a visit to the training hall to get some exercise done, and I spend some time in the early afternoon at the firing range. 

I spot Reiner, Bertolt and Annie out of the corner of my eye, walking toward the mess hall. I haven’t given our guests access to the armoury, although they are free to use the gym if they so please. For the most part they’ve been sticking to each other’s company, occasionally reaching out to Eren for, what I can only presume, is familiarity. They are all psychics after all, I imagine it makes a pleasant change for Eren to speak to his own kind, especially when they are so rare.

Eren sticks primarily to his own squad, as the older team members stick to the bridge. It’s become our sort of hiding spot away from everyone else. We can all keep an eye on the bridge and the flight crew keep me company. We’ve worked together for years, so it’s familiar. Armin is making more regular appearances lately, working closely with Hange. I don't know what it is what it is about techies but they’re magnetically pulled together. Maybe it's all the metal. 

I fire off a few more artificial target heads and start to sense something. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle with an imaginary breeze and I know it's not just the emptiness of the Paradis giving me the creeps. In the event that one of our new guests found their way in, I turn quickly, rifle raised and ready to aim at-

Eren’s forehead. 

What's more entertaining is he doesn't look surprised. 

“Hello to you too,” he says with a smirk. I lower the head of the rifle and look around. We’re out in the open. 

“What do you want, Eren?” I ask, feigning indifference. I'm pleased he has decided to pester me again. 

“Just figured I’d say hello is all, see how our gracious captain is doing…”

“What do you want?” I cut to the chase. Something dark skitters across have face for a split second and rather than intrigued the fleeting expression has me feeling cautious. Of what, I can't tell. Either way he's smiling it off before I have a chance to really register it.

“I was hoping you’d be free for another training session like yesterday’s?” Eren remains where he is thankfully, keeping his hands to himself. It's commendable, since I’m having a hard time holding back.

It's an unusual feeling, impulsiveness. It definitely feels out of character for me, but it will do us no harm if we’re careful.

Where did these thoughts even come from? 

I haven’t got a spare minute to think about it, because Eren is clearly expecting an answer. I nod my head and his face lights up like an overheating laser energy pack. I wave him off and he nods, salutes and skitters away. I’m left rubbing at the side of my face, wondering just when the hell something like this started. 

I groan quietly and a tap at the back of the shooting range brings my attention back to Eren, who is waiting. 

“Coming?” he chirps.

“Yeah, fuck, hang on,” I tell him, holstering my weapons and following him out. 

It doesn’t take us long to slink back to my quarters, flight suits shedding and me pushing him into the shower. Like hell am I touching him without a wash. 

It also doesn’t take long before I’m pressed up against the shower wall, leg lifted over Eren’s shoulder while he performs some very urgent lower deck maintenance. 

He’s young, energetic and not entirely inexperienced. I’ve had worse in my quarters. I’ve had worse in my bed. Or on the desk, or the sofa. There’s a whole soiree of places in which I’d like to do filthy things with this young man. 

I stroke the side of Eren’s face as his head bobs and damn, he’s not half bad at this. I just wish I had some bedding to fist my sheets into because the slick tiles offer zero hold, and I’m desperately refraining from using Eren’s hair as somewhere to grip. I occasionally wonder where the sudden attraction came from. I’m not usually quite so reckless. I don’t have the time of day to think about where this interest came from, as my next mind blowing orgasm is sucked clean out of me. 

Also, speaking of uncharacteristic, when did I care so much about not manhandling someone a little during sex? Usually I’m totally down for a rough fuck. Can't say this somewhat more gentle approach isn't turning me on something nasty, though. 

Anyway, it makes a pleasant change of scenery to do something other than masturbate every other evening. It definitely makes the days go by faster with a little something else to spend time thinking about, and the extra excitement brings a bit of spark to my usually dreary work days.

Our days soon fill with fleeting touches and glances during working hours and stolen time spent behind pillars and in drone dispatch closets, caught up in a heated distraction. It's safe to say we’re officially screwing around regularly. I doubt the crew know at all, we’ve been extraordinarily discreet, my optics recording nothing. 

By the end of the first week of bedroom shenanigans, I feel like I’m falling apart. 

By the end of the second week, I’m avoiding Eren for a day or two to give my dick a chance to breathe. 

It doesn't seem to deter his interest, or mine, for that matter. A couple of days off is all it takes to have us clawing at each other’s flight suits behind the training rooms.

“Wanna see how many different places we can do it?” Eren asks, three fingers deep as I'm bent bare arsed over a table. I grip onto the opposite edge of the desk to hold myself in place as Eren lines himself up and thrusts in at a steady pace. 

“Within reason,” he tacks to the end when I don't respond beyond a grunt. “Like, I know you wouldn't want us to fuck in the kitchen, or in your chair... on the bridge,” he sounds thoughtful, as though the chair idea had only just come to him. 

It's a great idea, and I think I would very much like to do it there, but alas, it’s too well recorded. Switch the cameras off in the bridge or alter the footage and even I would be rigorously questioned. Eren seems to pick up on that fact, and hums as I finish my internal monologue. It's almost as though he were listening along to my thoughts. 

“And if I were?” He asks with a chuckle and I turn my head to look, finding his eyes all white and his hair sticking up on end as he thrusts steadily against that sweet spot. 

“Must you do that _now_? It’s a bit off putting,” I complain. 

“You’re not exactly vocal in bed, I like to know that you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckles as his eyes return to normal and he presses a quick kiss to my lips. 

“I’ll just tell you- ah, there,” I tell him. 

Eren complies and keeps at it, and it doesn’t take all that long for either of us to finish. I’m too tired to bother cleaning up straight away, but thankfully Eren has picked up on my dislike of mess, so he gets up right away to get a washcloth. 

I must have fallen asleep while he was cleaning us both up, because I wake beneath the sheets with Eren sat over by the wall, looking out over the view into space. I move a little to stretch and I can feel the odd muscle complain with an ache. Particularly the muscles in my thighs and hips. 

“You’re up,” Eren says, stretching his legs out on the bench. I pat the bed next to me and he moves over, laying beside me. He takes my hand and holds it as he gets comfortable and I don’t bother moving yet. I'm too thoroughly fucked to want to move right now. I swear after sex is when I get the most sleep. I ought to take part more often to try and beat my insomnia. I’m sure Eren wouldn’t complain if I asked for his help. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. I hum with my eyes closed. I’m too comfortable to bother moving. I can feel his fingertips tidying up my hair as I rest, making me feel… what's the word? Adored might be too strong a word to use, but as soon as I crack my eyes open a sliver and get a glimpse of the look on Eren’s face, I realise it’s probably most apt. 

“What’s that look for?” I ask. 

Eren seems thoughtful. “Just thinking how lucky I am,” he says with a boyish smile, like he’s embarrassed to be admitting it. To be fair I figured we were just casually fucking. 

“It’s probably safer to not get attached,” I remind him. One of us might die on this mission or the next, not that I need to remind him of that. 

He hums, clearly trying to avoid the fact. “Well we can just enjoy it while it lasts,” he says softly, kissing the top of my hand. “Tell me when to stop and I’ll respect it,” he says. 

“Likewise for you,” I tell him, to which he agrees.


	11. Day 3,555 part 1

“Captain’s Log, day 3,555. Krolvians say the number 5 is unlucky. I wonder what fun that means for today,” I drawl, thoroughly bored with daily reporting. Some days it's okay and others, _eh_. 

I'm early to the bridge, everyone else is asleep or re-charging. I'm stood at the front window, staring out into space. There’s a whole bunch of stars and a few distant planets twinkling from some far off sector somewhere. 

This is my favourite time of day. I can get shit done, I can get nothing done. It's my time. No alarms, no complaints or questions, just peace and quiet. When everything is so still, it sort of reminds me that I’m still alive. It's my own sort of therapy, keeps me calm and gives me space to think and plan. 

I pull up the quadrant map and check where we’re supposed to be. We’re meant to be coming up to a small collection of planets within the next few hours. I look at the map and then back outside. Strange. I give my wrist a tap, reloading the interface, but the same coordinates ping up. 

There are planets mapped, but I can't see them.

We’re off course. 

Reserving concern for after I check, I head over to the main table console and load up our flight path thus far. It sparks to life and I notice a small glitch in the display. Moblit has run a daily tech test and I've seen the reports myself. Everything came back clear. 

I scan the quadrant for marks to log us against. Major stars, planets and asteroid belts to name a few. There is a military outpost not far from here, so although I can't see it, I should at least be able to pick up on transmission signals. I don't need to interact with them, their presence should show up on our ‘nearby’ map. 

I run a scan and sip at my tea while it loads, logging all nearby signal outputs. 

The scan reports no signals. 

We’re definitely not where we should be. 

I turn to activate the comms mic, but something stops me. An uncomfortable itch at the nape of my neck, a wild hunch. A sliver of _doubt_.

Logic is desperately trying to explain that it’s just a technical malfunction, that we’ve been following the wrong course by accident. I can't shake the idea though that one of my flight crew might have done it deliberately. The notion sends chills through me. 

They don't seem any different to any other mission. I’ve known Miké, Hange and Moblit for years. We know everything about each other. We trust each other, right?

Well there's no harm in asking. I’ll be able to see if any of them deliberately lie to me and take it from there. I have to give them the benefit of the doubt.

But even if they were steering the Paradis astray, that still leaves me with one main, unanswered question…

_Why?_

I run a manual scan on our coordinates using my suit in isolation from the ship’s interface. That way if something is wrong with the ship, I’ll know it if my suit tells me we’re anywhere else. 

Which is exactly what it does. The reading from my suit pinpoints our true location. A glance out the windows confirm a few stars in the distance and a few far off planets to our left. The information contradicts the map still up on the table. 

Before I grill anyone, I’d better get us back onto course. 

I move over to my pilot’s chair and pull up the controls. The particle screen activates before my lap and I start upon typing in the correct coordinates. 

“Petra, lock in co-ordinates and amend route,” I order her. It takes her a while to respond. 

“Invalid request. Access denied,” she says. The denial shakes me at first. It feels like a punch to the face I wasn’t expecting. This has never happened before. The technical issues must be worse than I expected. 

“Hange, Moblit, Miké, get your asses to the bridge right now,” I order them, likely waking them. They arrive some five minutes later, suited and tired. 

“What’s the problem?” Hange hurries in. 

“Where do you want me to start? We’re off course, I’ve lost access control to major ship functions and my tea is now fucking cold because of this bullshit,” I gripe, pulling a face at the consoles up and active across the whole bridge. 

I scoured every single fucking file for an answer. 

“I searched the entire database and I couldn’t find a trace of anyone changing the access codes. Not so much as a dirty fingerprint. Ships don’t just magically change direction,” I tell them. Moblit heads over to the consoles with Hange, checking over everything I’ve already been over. 

“What about a temporal distortion?” Hange suggests. Moblit groans.

“I sure hope not,” Moblit replies, one of his cybernetic tendrils itching at the back of his head. 

“Couldn’t have been a wormhole, we’d have seen it,” Hange says. Moblit beeps in agreement, tapping rapidly on the consoles with more than two hands. 

“Surely a distortion big enough to affect a ship this size would show up on our scans?” Hange mutters.

“Yeah,” Moblit says. 

“Miké, run bridge footage at one and a quarter speed from this point,” I point to the two maps, to the point just before where our paths diverged. It would have been just over a week ago that we started to slowly drift, however, with the speed we’ve been going, a week has been long enough to send us far enough to notice. 

It's not like we’ve transversed across quadrants, but if this isn't righted, we may just. 

Miké and I eye over the footage from where the ship will have veered off course and there is nothing out of the ordinary. Not from visuals alone. No distortion, no surprise wormholes, nothing. I pull up the console log list and replay the footage. 

Moblit is seen inputting override commands as he works no differently than usual. It's clear on the screen that he's the one setting new rules. Miké’s lips press together and both of our eyes narrow as we attempt comprehension. 

“Moblit, says here you set overrides using Erwin’s access codes. How did you get those?” I ask carefully, moving the screens to the side. Moblit looks just as surprised as we all feel at the news. My retinals aren't picking up anything unusual about his demeanor. He is genuinely surprised. 

“I don't remember doing that though, what the-” 

“I’ll run some tests right away,” Hange cuts Moblit off. I nod. 

“I want everyone present,” I stress. I don't feel comfortable saying it aloud, but I'm sure the team are feeling the minor shift in trust. Moblit comes forward and as per my request, Miké seals off the bridge. I don't want anyone coming or going until we find out what's going on. 

Hange hooks Moblit up to the console by the back of the neck and it takes a few minutes to calibrate, load the data and display it. He seems too surprised, and I've known him for long enough to understand he's not a very good liar. Sure, when he's had something to drink he gets a bit mouthy, but nothing quite so well thought out. He’s simply not programmed to be a criminal mastermind. 

The only deduction I am able to make at this point is that someone has fucked with his tech. That or something, or someone has fucked with the remaining biological parts of his mind. Just because he's riddled with cybernetic implants, doesn't mean his mind is not influenceable. He still has free will. Or, at least he did. 

“I can't find anything, Levi,” Hange reports. “Everything is operational dating back to mission start when we last checked. His tech is clean.” 

Alright, that rules out one possibility. 

Time to rule out the other one. 

“Eren,” I announce over the private comms-caster. “I need you on the bridge asap.” 

It's a tense few moments while we wait, everyone’s minds stewing over what could have caused this malfunction. If it is psychic, we then have to pinpoint who is to blame. If Eren can even do that. 

I’ll treat them as innocent unless proven guilty, reserving judgement and action until that point. No sense in losing trust in your squad over something like this, especially if they’re all innocent. It’s not uncommon to have external forces at play in space. 

“Sir?” Eren taps at the bridge door, Miké looks to me, I nod for him to allow him access. 

“Eren, I’ve got a project for you. This is strictly confidential,” I tell him. By the tone of my voice he can tell at this is a serious matter. He doesn't even try to smile. 

“Yes, sir, how can I help?” Eren asks. 

“We need you to check each and every one of us for psychic influence since the mission started. Is that possible?” I pitch. 

“Should be. Do any of you have psy chips activated?” He asks. 

“Deactivate them once it is your turn. Petra, am I allowed permission to raise psy barriers around the bridge?” 

“Confirmed, emergency barriers now active. Please remember barriers will deactivate when the bridge is open. Locking doors now,” Petra announces. 

“When you’re ready,” I say to Eren. 

Eren presses a thumb to Moblit’s forehead and closes his eyes. The air in the room feels cooler and Eren’s hair starts to stand up on end. He holds the position for about a minute or so before letting go and moving onto Hange. He keeps an entirely neutral expression throughout, so it's hard to gauge if he’s seen anything. 

Once he arrives at me, his eyes have already glazed over black and his thumb is pressing to my forehead. 

The technique feels un-intrusive, and is over quickly. I look to Eren expectantly. 

“There's something in Moblit, but I can’t trace it.” Eren frowns. Everyone exchanges a weary look. 

“What do you mean by ‘something’?” Hange asks. 

“It's like his free will, imagining it were a tangible object, has a splinter in it,” Eren tries to explain. “Only when you exercise that will in a certain way does it cause the splinter to hurt or dig in deeper.”

I suppose that makes sense. 

“Can you remove the ‘splinter’?” Hange asks. Eren shrugs. 

“These imprints have been there for a long time, and probably put there by something far more powerful than me. I don't think I’d be able to do it without causing some sort of damage.” 

“So Moblit was influenced?” I ask.

“Well he wasn't lying when he said he didn't remember. Unless he cleared his memory,” Hange shrugs. 

“Run a memory scan, you should be able to tell if anything was doctored using the S-14 file,” Moblit suggests. Through my optics I can tell he's somewhat disturbed by the turn of events. He’s not giving misleading instructions and seems genuine. 

While they do that, I try racking my brain for clues to see if I remember anything. At the mere thought of trying to remember past events, my mind goes to Eren. For a split second it feels like there are a pair of hands on the sides of my head, forcibly turning my eye away from certain events. There’s something not allowing me to remember, but instead distracting me with various images. Images best not shared due to their very _sensitive_ nature. Sensitive like how Eren squirms when I would touch him-

“Wait.” 

Oh shit, that came out of my mouth. Everyone is looking at me. Before I can even finish what I was going to say, whatever has a hold of me swiftly erases it from my mind. Stuffs it away into forgetfulness. 

“What is it, Sir?” Eren asks. 

“Dunno, it’s gone.” I shrug. Things like this happen all of the time. “If it's important it will come back to me.” If I remember I’ll have to write it down. 

So, in the light of what we’ve just found out, what do I do next? We can't get the ship back on course, we can't override the pieces that Moblit unwittingly put into play. Not without finding out...

“Hange, have you got access to which chip the controls are allocated to?” I ask. They check. The tech all seems to be working, so that's at least one good sign out of this whole shitfest. The consoles beep as Hange quickly selects through various options. They dig through some files before pulling up a code and stretching it larger for everyone to see. 

It doesn't make sense.

It's a chip code, sure, but it's not in a language I recognise.

“Sole control of flight mechanisms has been diverted to this chip. When I scan for its location, it shows up right where Levi is standing. This,” Hange pulls up another code beside it, “is Captain Levi’s ID code.” 

The two are vastly different.

The whole thing has made me uneasy. Unanswerable questions, a ship off course to an unknown destination, full of people whose wellbeing I am responsible for. 

I attempt to message out to Erwin, but the comms access has also been blocked.

There is literally fuck all I can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, so, if you have any questions regarding anything to do with this AU, there's a whole swarm of info I have which may not have made it into the fic! Do ask questions, I have a million headcanons about the space gays and it's literally my most favourite topic in the universe. :D


	12. Day 3,555 part 2

“Orders, sir?” Hange asks carefully.

“Take Moblit to his quarters, I don't want him unwittingly creating any more havoc. Then you and Miké, go check the engine room. If we can redirect energy between engines we may be able to steer her manually. I’ll stay here to monitor whether it works. Not a word of this to the rest of the squad.” I tell them, and they immediately get to work.

Eren is left standing on the bridge like a lemon. When I don't give him any orders, he sits at the back by the console table, looking at the map. 

I patiently wait for news from the engine room, but it will take at least twenty minutes for them to get there, even by internal ship transportation. 

I try thinking back to a solution again, but my head just turns fuzzy and I struggle to focus. The first place my eyes look for clarity is Eren. I can't place what it is about him, but his presence calms my anxieties. Sure, it’s not the best for focusing on any work, but it offers a pleasant distraction from the mess we’ve found ourselves in. 

I’d love to be able to focus on work at the moment, but there’s nothing I can do. I have to wait for Miké and Hange to drop off Moblit and get themselves downstairs. 

“Sir?” Eren stands, coming over since I’m too busy staring into space and wondering where this influx of interest stemmed from. I try as I may, but I can’t place the source of my affections. 

“Hmm?” 

“Is there anything I can do while we wait?” 

It embarrasses me only slightly as the first place my mind goes is straight to the gutter. Eren doesn’t miss a beat though. The guy’s sharp. I notice an eyebrow perk up in interest. He must have seen the thought crossing my mind. 

“Perhaps not here,” Eren says with a smirk, holding himself at ease, hands behind his back. 

“Unfortunately I’ve got to stay here, but later, definitely,” I tell him. 

He nods along. 

“In the meantime why not train with the others? They’re running simulations with the newbies,” I tell him, pulling them up on the screen with what little access I still have to my own ship. The video feed is all flashes of light and crackles and they’re all running around fighting fake demons to pass the time. 

Even in their downtime they’re committed to their jobs. It’s commendable. 

“I suppose I could go practice sealing rifts?” Eren suggests. I purse my lips. It’s not a terrible idea. 

“And you’re not going to pass out from exhaustion and die down there if you’re unsupervised?” I ask. He shrugs, so I shoot him a glare. He ought to have a little more concern for his own well being. He has a habit of wanting to over-please. Not that it’s an issue in the bedroom, but at work, I’d rather he takes a little more care. 

“Do what you want, but don’t exhaust yourself,” I tell him, he salutes, and takes his leave. 

I don’t have to wait much longer before Hange’s voice crackles over my earpiece. 

“We’re down in the engine rooms, trying to override the starboard side engines,” Hange tells me. It should steer us back to the right if it works. “Stand by.” 

I stand by. 

I watch and wait. 

“Anything?” Hange asks. I check the instruments and nothing has changed. 

“Nothing. Did it work your side?” I ask, only for a negative to come back to me. Well this is a shitty situation if I ever saw one. I check the monitors, assessing for accountability on all extra bodies aboard. 

Everyone, including our five extras, are in the training hall. The only exceptions are Eren, Moblit, Hange and Miké.

“Want me to come take a look?” I ask. Hange confirms. “Send Miké up to the bridge. I’ll come down when he arrives.” 

We do exactly that, and I make my way down to the sub levels, toward the engines. The ship becomes a little bit more lively down here, all sorts of machinery and humming electronics working along to keep the ship running. The doors to the engine rooms open up and I make my way through the wide expansive hall, very similar to the one on the Marley. 

The main rigs for the engines are situated on either side of the room, as well as along the stern. Below is all of the mechanical components and below that, fuel. Hange is in the centre of the room, mechanical appendages fixed to their back busy tapping away at the screen while their hands work the console. It must be so useful having more than two hands. 

The thought of what more I could do to Eren tries to infiltrate my mind and I swiftly try to dismiss it. The feeling lingers shamefully though. 

“My tech isn't syncing up with the mainframe,” Hange mutters as I approach, looking over their shoulder at the uncooperative screens. I rest my hand on the console for it to read my ID, just to see what it will allow me to do. The screen should light up with all of the multiple permissions I have, but it gives me no options. 

“Fuck,” I grit out, rolling my shoulders as I step back to try and keep myself from getting too frustrated. “Piece of shit.”

“Maybe it's a virus?” Hange suggests. 

I shrug. “Maybe the ship is just fucking constipated. What are we gonna do? Shove our fingers up and wiggle it out?” I complain. Hange is used to my methods of venting my annoyances by now, so says nothing. 

“Even the emergency kill switch is dead,” Hange says. 

I roll my eyes. “Ironic.” 

“So we’re sitting ducks, basically?” I say more to myself than Hange, but I hear an affirmative hum anyway. 

“Alright, let’s head back up to the bridge. We’re gonna have to put the squad on duty in case anything goes down and we need to evacuate. There's a small system of planets not too far by cruiser. We’d have enough oxygen,” I say.

“We can take backup supplies from the escape pods if needed,” Hange suggests. 

“Alright, see to it we’ve got the big cruiser ready in case it comes to that. I’m sure Erwin will be able to tell we’re off course. He’ll definitely suspect something if he can't get in touch with us,” I reason, trying to convince myself everything will turn out well for my team.

“Good point, I’ll see what I can do.”

It doesn't help that Erwin is already accustomed to my daily reports not ever being so daily. I usually report in every day, or failing that, once every other day at least. It’ll be at least three or four days before he suspects an issue. 

I activate the ship-wide comms and hey ho, no surprise, the message doesn't relay. 

“You’re fucking shitting me right now,” I gripe painfully. This is just taking the piss now.

“Test, test.” Hange tries our interpersonal comms and the message comes through just fine. I throw them a thumbs up. 

“See if you can contact the squad. Discreetly.” 

I don't trust that these malfunctions aren't related to our five new arrivals. I don't have to say it out loud for Hange to understand what I’m thinking. That and it might be dangerous to voice. He'll, who knows, it's probably even dangerous to think. 

“It isn't connecting,” Hange says. We’re quickly losing control of everything on board. Soon we may not be able to move between levels. 

“You get to the escape bay and prepare, I’ll go to warn the others,” I order. Hange nods and we both make our exits. I pick up my brisk walk into a jog through the wide white hallways. Once they felt familiar, like home to me, and now they’re painted with uncertainty. 

Thankfully the doors are still unlocked and responding. I draw nearer to the training hall and activate my face mask and cloaking aspect. The flight suit mimics the corridor and I vanish from sight. Sure, with interdimensional connections, any psychic on board could tell I'm here, but at least it protects me from the dim-witted amongst them. 

I edge up to the corridor wall where the long white hall has observation windows into the hall. I don't see any simulations running. My eyes scan for movement and my left picks up something above. A quick zoom in confirms that my squad have been held hostage by none other than Bertolt and Reiner. 

They seem to be holding them at gunpoint, but no one’s vitals show any signs of harm or major distress. This must have happened recently. They've positioned themselves above on the observation deck. The only way up there is through the training hall. They would spot anyone coming across, camouflaged or not. 

That begs for an answer to where the other three are. 

I try connecting to Armin, Mikasa, Jean. Nothing. 

I’m going in blind, but at least I know the layout of my own ship better than any damn usurper. No matter how fucking clever they think they are with their infinite possible advantages, this is my ship. This is my team they’re fucking with and I’ll endeavor to have order restored before dinner.

Like hell am I gonna just roll over and give it to them. 

I make my way down the corridor in the opposite direction, jogging quietly through the system of white pathways. Who do I go to first, Eren or Miké? I have no access at the bridge, and I doubt they would send more than two to go get Eren. He’s not that highly ranked yet. My guess is Zeke is on the bridge and one of the women has gone to get Eren to take him back to the training hall. 

I make the choice to go and get Eren first. 

As I’m drawing closer, the ship’s feedback screeches and I cover my ears until it passes. A familiar voice crackles over the audio. 

“Warriors, remember to keep them alive. We need the tributes in good condition,” Zeke announces to the ship. At least he’s not planning on killing us. Fucking tributes though? Have we seriously been hijacked by a bunch of cultists? I’d rather not have ritual sacrifice for dinner. 

He doesn’t announce anything else, but the very fact he’s given himself away proves his override of my controls is entirely complete. I have to treat myself as a stowaway as of now, and fully expect the ship’s drones to try and capture me if their women can’t. I take a detour on my way to Eren, swinging by a reserves munitions dock. I force off the front of the consoles and for once I’m glad this ship is ancient. Newer technologies don’t often allow for such manual access unless you’re a cyborg. 

I fiddle with the wires and the doors open. I dash in and arm myself with two live round pistols, a rifle, a shoulder belt of las packs and a few anti-psy grenades. They don’t affect your average joe, but they’ll give any psychic a kickass headache. No matter their rank. 

I switch on the charge on the rifle and wait for it to activate before heading back out and down the corridor. I keep my cloaking on and my visor up to cover my face. I cover the distance quickly, knowing exactly which paths spit me out where. Before I know it I’ve reached the lower level where Eren’s training cell would have been. 

There’s no sight of any other people lingering. 

I attempt a local headcount scan using my suit and thankfully it works. I pick up on Eren’s signature, and no others nearby. 

I steady the rifle, ready for the fuckers to be evading my scans. If they can re-command an entire ship, I wouldn’t put it past them. My senses and wits are the only things keeping myself from capture right now. It’s all I can rely on. I duck around a corner and into the training section, again, spotting no one. 

I come up to Eren’s training room. He’s inside, but the simulation isn’t active. 

I tap at the console on the outside and the door clicks in complaint. It’s jammed. 

“Who’s there?” Eren sounds startled. He backs up against the wall. 

“It’s Levi,” I tell him quietly and he moves up against the glass window in the door, hands pressed to the metal. 

“Get me out of here, sir. Annie, she locked me in here. She was too powerful for me to stop!” 

“Working on it,” I tell him. “Where did she go?” 

“I don’t think she’s far, did you hear that announcement? Have they taken over the ship?” Eren asks. I hum in affirmation. 

“Unfortunately, yes. The squad are all being held in the training hall and I think Zeke is on the bridge with Miké. If he’s still alive, that is,” I mutter the last part, hoping it’s true, the rest of me creeping with an ominous foreboding. I have the feeling we’re already a man down. 

There’s no way of telling until we get up there and there’s no time to stop to regret coming down here first. 

I’m about to reassess the console to the door when a crackle sounds to my right. My attention snaps up and Annie is at the end of the hall with a handful of fire. 

Telepath my arse. This bitch is a pyromancer. 

She doesn’t waste a moment, hurling the ball of fire down the hall at me with frightening speed and accuracy. I throw myself against the door of Eren’s pod in order to barely avoid being roasted alive. My whole body feels the immense heat as it passes by, and I don’t have a moment to check the damage it causes to the wall it collides with. 

My rifle is up in an instant and I'm firing, backing up to try and find cover. Annie’s arms come up before her and more sparks conjure, a meaty, dark fireball forming between her hands before she forces it down the hall at me again. And again. And again. 

She's quick, and strong, and she gives me no time to collect myself. 

I’ll need to change tactics. 

I duck to the right of her next attack and open fire. She’s just as fast as I am. 

Correction: almost as fast as I am. 

An energy blast strikes her in the leg, then the arm, and she falters in her assault only for a moment. I avoid her fiery attacks as I push forward faster than she can make them. I’m expecting her to fight me once I get close, but she turns as though to run. I push off from the ground with a little extra effort in order to out-sprint her, but as soon as I get close enough she fucking disappears. 

I hear the fire behind me in the nick of time, falling to the floor as a huge molten ball soars over my back and head, narrowly missing me. I roll over and another strikes the ground where I was just lying. 

Fuck, a pyromancer that can teleport. What else wasn’t Zeke telling us about his team’s _'specialities'_? 

Frustration for the man aside, I activate the shield on my suit and fire at her again. She stretches out one of her fireballs, solidifying it into a hardened magma shield which blocks some of my shots. 

I get to my feet. 

If I charge at her again she’s likely to just teleport again. 

I need a distraction. 

I back up and dive down a corridor, running as fast as I can to round the training pods. I turn a corner and nearly fall back on my ass as a fireball flies straight past my face. The jerk in movement is enough to spark a twinge of pain from my already fucked ankle. I grimace, but push through it. 

I turn to head the other direction but she teleports in front of me. Right in front of me, disarming the rifle from my hands and sending it flying across the floor. 

Another punch comes at me, but I deflect it and manage to duck around her shield to jab her in the side. The heat soars through my glove. How high is her body temperature? Damn. 

She staggers from the blow and drops her shield, raising her fists, ready to fight. 

She isn't prepared to play fair, so neither am I. I take a step back far enough to draw a pistol from my thigh and fire it clean into her left knee. She screams in pain and falls to the ground and that’s when I deliver another shot to her right leg. 

The moment I fire a final shot at her head, she vanishes.


	13. Day 3,555 part 3

Annie has fled. There's no signs of Zeke and Pieck aside from the earlier announcement. 

I also can't get Eren’s door open. 

“Damn piece of shit,” I mutter at it. “Can't you fart out a teleport or something?” 

Eren pulls a face. I take that as a no. 

“Can't you do anything from your side?” I complain, getting tired of today’s bullshit. 

“Sealed room, remember?” Eren so kindly reminds me. I kick the door in frustration and lean against it. Eren’s stuck inside a room which inhibits his powers. Without them he’s almost our most useless soldier. I can’t risk Annie coming back if I leave him here, so I take a pistol and fire it at the console. The door clicks and shifts, but doesn’t otherwise move. The seal seems to have broken in its attempt to open. 

“I think that’s done it. I can feel it,” Eren says. I wiggle my fingers into the small gap created by the power disruption, ready to pull at the same time as Eren. We heave and the door grinds open. About halfway, the door remembers that it is in fact supposed to open, so the electric kicks in and it slides the rest of the way with ease. 

Alright. I have an extra body to help regain the ship. This is good. 

“I think Zeke is on the bridge. Miké was there last I saw him,” I inform Eren. 

“Let’s go, then,” he says, and we make our way down the hall. I hand Eren the las rifle and arm myself with both pistols. We’re locked and loaded. 

We remain on alert for any other signs of activity and I try out our interpersonal comms while we’re in close vicinity. Nothing. Zeke must be blocking everything somehow. 

“Stay here, keep watch,” I tell Eren at the end of the hall leading up to the sealed bridge doors. The clear door is splattered with red, which can only mean one thing. The closer I get, the more green carapace body parts I start seeing. One of Miké’s wings is lodged up against the door and I can see Zeke and Pieck inside, sitting at the main console. 

He gets up leisurely once he spots me. Smug bastard probably knew I was coming. 

“So nice of you to join us, captain,” he says as he approaches the doors. He’s not got the privacy filter up on the sealed doors so we can hear each other just fine. I glower at him. There’s no hiding the rage I feel towards this asshole for killing my best fighter. 

“Why the sour face?” He asks. I don’t bother with a response. He knows full well what he’s doing. 

“What do you want with my crew?” I ask first. 

“Well, I suppose you could say I need to borrow them for the greater good,” he says, and Pieck chuckles darkly in the background. 

“What do you want, then? Money?” I can probably get my hands on whatever they want for a ransom, if that is the case. Zeke’s snort of amusement tells me that’s not what he wants. 

“No, no, Levi. Not at all. As I say, we’ve got a very important mission and you and the Paradis are merely helping us complete it,” he explains, without explaining. 

“Care to elaborate?” I can’t stop the venom from seething out of me. I don’t even bother to try. 

“Your squad have been part of a much bigger plan than you all may realise. I suppose you won't need to be so forgetful now that everything's in place,” he muses aloud, rubbing at his chin. 

“What are you-” I try to ask, but he raises a hand and all at once the memories come flooding into my mind. 

Months, maybe a year back, stationed back at HQ, I came into contact with Reiner, Annie and Bertolt before. It was a psychic training evaluation, all three of them being assessed for safety before allowing them into the military. One handshake from Reiner was all it took to plant the mental seed. 

The seed which was used to make me believe I had an anti-psy chip. To take the orders for this mission months later. The seed that forced my attraction to Eren so I would oversee them infiltrating the ship’s defences. I never even knew it was there. I’d forgotten I’d even met these people before. 

Being able to see the intricate web Zeke has spun around me feels overwhelming. The initial seed now removed, my clarity returns in full, agonising force. The teams I’ve lost, the pointless deaths, and years of my life wasted in assisting what I now realise are an elite team of rogue psychics. Too far lost to the tempting darkness of demonic power, I can now see them for who they are. 

It's not uncommon for more powerful psychics to give in to the evil that courses through their bodies. It's the main reason most don't live long enough to grow so strong. The military ‘retire’ them, to put it nicely. If they grow too strong, they are euthanized. Five of them on one ship though, fuck. 

“Remember now?” Zeke asks, breaking me from my distracting influx of memory. Every tiny little detail has snapped back into place, the only thing left in its wake - rage. I’ll kill him before he ‘makes use’ of my ship. 

“Well, thank you for your vessel. I’ll have someone collect you shortly. Your memories can be our parting gift,” Zeke says as he returns to the controls beside Pieck. 

There’s no point in shooting the bridge doors. I won't get in. I’ll have to draw him out somehow. 

I’m going to need my squad. 

I turn on my heel and march down the corridor to meet back up with Eren. 

The whole mission was a ploy for them to steal a ship. Why? My best guess is radicals like this more often than not want more of their kind to join them. They’re going to sacrifice the ship’s crew to create an even larger tear in reality. One that, out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, will spew havoc across the galaxy. 

For every one life form we have in our reality, the demons probably outnumber us 10,000:1. Those aren't odds I want to see in person. 

“What happened?” Eren asks urgently.

“The mission was all planned so they could capture this ship. Our memories were altered, and so were our… actions,” I tell him. His mouth hangs open and I can see little specks of anger etch into his face. I take hold of his arm to prevent him from storming back up to the bridge. 

“We’ll talk about this later, but for now, we’ve got three other psychics to take care of,” I want him staying focused. There’s nothing we can do about the bridge. Not yet anyway. 

“Everyone is in the simulation hall. They were all training so my guess is one of them is influencing them to stay docile,” I surmise. Eren nods and agrees. I inform Eren that Annie got away, and that she can teleport, so to stay alert since Zeke said he’d be sending someone to retrieve me. 

“Sorry I wasn't able to tell that we’d all been fooled,” Eren says sullenly. Part of me twinges at that. Is he telling the truth? Wait. Maybe me not trusting him is all Zeke fucking with me. Maybe it's my own doing. I have no idea, so I can't make any sound choices other than reclaiming the ship. I don't know what is mine and what is a fabrication, so I’ll wait until he’s dead before worrying about shitty feelings. 

I don't have time to think about all the bullshit Eren and I pulled in the name of demonic distraction. I doubt it was real at all. However, the miserable look on Eren’s face gives me a slight twinge of hope that maybe he’d not regretted it. It's a strange feeling, knowing I’d bed someone without meaning to. Hopefully he doesn't take it the wrong way if we find we’re not actually attracted to each other. 

That aside, Eren’s hair starts to creep up on end as he leads the way through the hall. His footsteps slow and when I round to his front, his eyes are glazed over and he's coming to a halt. I don't think he can see me. I wave a hand in front of his face. This is the last fucking thing I need, Zeke or his merry band of assholes taking Eren from my command too. He's the last thing on this ship I’ve currently got authority over. 

His eyes return to normal and he raises his rifle, nodding at me. 

“Everything alright?” I ask. 

“Sorry, I was just scanning the ship for life forms since the tech is all down.” 

“Tell me next time you want to pull any wibbly shit, I need to know you’re not having your brain hijacked.” 

Eren hums with agreement. “Sure. There’s no sign of Annie, Hange is in the pod bay and all the rest are still in place.” 

“Alright, well first thing’s first, let’s get the team back, then we stop the ship without damaging it if possible. We need to take out Zeke’s goons and draw him out of the bridge. Then I’ll capture him or kill him if I can’t,” I say as we quietly round the corner to the training hall. I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion at the flashes of light coming from the viewing windows. 

As we creep closer, the contents of the room coming into view, Ymir has Bertolt in a mental chokehold, her hair wildly out of place and her eyes entirely black as Bertolt struggles for air. He’s been choked by one of Ymir’s mental powers. While he desperately scrambles at the nothing around his neck, the others are trying to protect themselves against Reiner. 

Finally, an honest nugget of information. Reiner is a biomancer, his skin hardened to deflect even the toughest las shots. Eren runs ahead to help just at the same time that Reiner tries to flee. I don't blame him. He’s outnumbered, nor did he clearly account for one of them being a psy. 

Clearly he can't teleport. 

The squad make chase to the training hall doors and that’s where they stop. Reiner throws up an energetic barrier in which they cannot cross. His eyes shoot my way and before I have time to react, another barrier is placed between Eren and I.

Looks like he’s chosen to take Eren on by himself. Eren is fortunate enough to have foresight, but I’m not so sure how well that will help him in a high stress combat situation. The squad are all yelling, but I can't hear a thing. Eren is completely cut off.

I try doubling back on myself, but the barrier surrounds me. Eren’s going to have to kill him to set us free. 

A fight to the death which begins with Eren taking a left hook right to the jaw. One hit in and he’s already screwed. I can't help but groan. Not a good start. If only I could find a way to break this barrier. I try shooting at it but the energy discharge fucking bounces off and ricochets dangerously around the enclosure. 

Alright then, looks like I'm not getting out of here. By the time I’ve returned my attention to the fight, Eren has put some distance between them. I can see them talking, but I can’t make out any sound through the barrier. Eren fires his rifle at Reiner but the thick armour he has morphed his skin into takes the entire brunt of it. There is a good amount of space between them in the wide corridor and I am reduced to merely watching how this pans out.

Reiner crouches into the start of a sprint and the floor dents when he kicks off, charging Eren with everything he’s got. Eren dodges and tries to grapple Reiner when his footing is off at the end of his sprint, but he collects himself viciously fast, deflecting Eren with ease.

Eren seems to be a lot quicker on his feet, but Reiner is infinitely stronger. I do however spot a weak point when Reiner turns his back to me. All I need is for Eren to look my way, lest he finds the soft spots behind Reiner’s knees first. He hasn’t armoured his joints, presumably to maintain mobility. Eren dodges his attacks with ease, but finds it very difficult to land any effective attacks of his own. 

This might be a long fight. 

If Eren can’t get his knife into one of Reiner’s soft spots, he’ll have to exhaust him first. Reiner however has the upper hand in almost all aspects. 

Another flash of the las rifle. Nothing. I can’t even hear it. 

Another failed jab of the knife. 

Another punch to the gut for Eren. 

It’s not looking good. Eren is getting his ass kicked and there’s nothing any of us can do. I can see the squad trapped in the training hall trying to break through the windows or the barrier, to no luck. Meanwhile, Eren is quickly growing tired with all of the assaults. 

They end up fighting hand to hand when Eren gets his knife disarmed. 

They’re in a hold on the floor. Reiner is winning. 

Fuck. 

Reiner pulls on Eren’s arm and I don’t even need to be able to hear to know he’s just dislocated the shoulder. Eren’s face screams all the pain he’s in without having to hear his voice. 

Then, Reiner stops. He’s glaring angrily at Eren who is bright red in his choke hold, looking ten times more pissed off than I’ve ever seen him. I’ll hand it to the guy, he’s got stamina in the face of an intimidating foe. I guess I done good ending up with him on my team. For as long as he was alive, that is. 

Anyway, Reiner seems confused, and he says something to Eren. I can’t make out the words even with my retinals trying to pick up on his lip movements. I don’t think he’s speaking a language my tech can translate. 

Reiner’s face contorts as he keeps his hold on Eren, but the grip seems to be loosening by the second. Whatever Eren is doing to him, it’s working. Eren’s hair is stuck up on end in places and I can tell he’s starting up some wibbly shit in self defence. Reiner’s hair is blowing around in the energetic distortion and parts of his armour start to peel away from his body. 

Wait no, that’s putting it too nicely. I’m talking huge chunks are being forced off this guy’s arms, legs, back, you name it. Whatever force has awakened inside Eren, it’s looking like biomancy, the ability to manipulate flesh. I back up as I realise this is the messy display of a psychic displaying the discovery of their main branch of ability. Their mental ‘coming of age’, as it were. 

I’ve seen this happen only once before, and fourteen people died in a sudden void fire as the psy discovered she was a pyrokinetic. Not good. 

Eren though, is manipulating Reiner’s body, but the walls around them appear to be vibrating as he’s doing it. I’ve never seen a biomancer do this, even in simulation. When Reiner’s grip releases and he tries getting away from Eren, I notice Eren’s rifle taking itself apart mid air, the energy pack in it tossed aside as the metal components strike through the soft spots torn out from the backs of Reiner’s legs. 

There’s blood everywhere, and it’s obvious now that Eren’s main affinity lies with telekinesis. 

Really fucking powerful telekinesis. 

Ugh, I’m gonna have to get him re-evaluated if we live. More paperwork. 

Eren is tearing this guy a new one in front of the whole squad and I’m thinking of all the paperwork it’s gonna create. Reiner is now well and truly incapacitated, the barriers falling away and allowing the squad exit from their mock prison. Eren hesitates in delivering the final blow, having calmed down from his initial outburst. Ymir doesn't miss an opportunity and kills her second foe today. 

Not bad, even if she’s gonna cause paperwork too. 

Eren’s arm hangs loose and Sasha moves over to help, popping it back into place. Given his unnatural healing speed, he’ll be fine in no time.

So, the squad is free, Reiner and Bertolt have been handled, and I finally feel like we’re making a comeback. 

It's nowhere near over yet, though.


	14. Day 3,555 part 4

The team all seem relieved to be free, yet wary because of their two new psychic discoveries. Ymir revealing her powers, and Eren’s evolution. They’re also a bit dazed thanks to Bertolt’s influence over them. Thankfully they were only holed up for a couple hours, so the side effects should be fairly short lived. 

“Zeke has taken over the ship, barricaded himself into the bridge and is steering us off course. Where to, I don't know. I have no access over controls, not even overrides,” I inform everyone. 

“What about the other veterans?” Armin asks. 

“Moblit was compromised so is locked in his quarters, Hange is down at the escape pod bay and Miké is dead.” I tell them plainly. We can all mourn later. 

“All communications are down,” Armin adds. I nod in confirmation. 

“So now what?” Ymir asks. Armin cuts in before I have a chance to formulate something. 

“Well, we probably can’t get into the bridge, so we’ll have to find a way to either escape, or slow the ship down until we can find a way to get to the bridge,” he says, thoughtful. Everyone listens intently. 

“So we need to slow the ship down without override codes. How?” Marlow asks.

“Well, we need to draw them out of the bridge if we’ve got any hope of getting control back. Maybe we should try creating a distraction?” Armin pitches. It’s more or less following my line of thought, but I’d love to hear what else he’s got in mind. He’s pretty genius, so he might be our best shot of thinking a way out of this. 

“Sounds good to me, but what?” I ask, hoping to empower him enough to suggest something. 

“Well, if Eren is in fact a telekine, he could create a fuel blockage. Without fuel running to the tanks, we’d slow down in about an hour, then trail on momentum for another couple. It wouldn’t be half as fast travel though. It might work and would preserve the engines,” Armin says. 

I shrug. It’s a sound idea at least.

“It's worth a go. They’ll have complaints when their stolen vessel is useless to them. Everyone stick together, Annie is still on board somewhere. She is a pyromancer that can teleport.” I wave for everyone to start moving, and thankfully aside from being a bit shaken, no one is particularly hurt. Eren seems to be handling his few minor cuts well now his shoulder is back in place. 

He always did have a high pain tolerance during training. Out of pure force of will and stubbornness, he’d gladly keep getting shot if it meant he could spend his final breaths killing demons. 

Despite Zeke severing the mental connection between us, I still find my eyes drifting his way, as if actually considering it. I honestly felt relieved when I had an excuse to place against the unknown, but now I’m aware, it just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It's almost as though I want to be ignorant again. 

Anyway, I’ll see where my mind takes me when we’re out of this mess.

We make haste to the engine rooms as a unit, running down the wide white halls not caring for the noise we make. It's my entire squad against three psychics. They may outpower us, but we have more numbers, and more opportunities to strike a critical shot, even if most of us go down fighting. 

We arrive to the engines and entrance is quickly granted with a bit of expert tinkering from Armin. The engines are roaring at full throttle as Zeke steers the Paradis toward the unknown (and likely unpleasant). Everyone takes up position surrounding the main controls and Armin starts working his magic. 

“As soon as I use this console it will likely alert the bridge,” he warns us all. 

“Then don't,” Eren stops him, but doesn't realise he’s literally stopped Armin’s hands from descending upon the console. It looks like Armin has his hands caught in an imaginary brick of cement. Eren blinks as Armin gives his arms a tug, and releases the distortion. 

“Sorry, but if I'm blocking the fuel shouldn't we leave it to be a surprise?” Eren smiles apologetically. 

“Alright,” Armin takes Eren through the outlines on the floors detailing the pipes and to where they lead. “If you can get a sense for the mechanisms in there, there should be a fuel switch. When it’s active, the pipes are open. There is a hatch that closes to control fuel. You need to close it.”

“Find hatch, block fuel. Okay.” Eren rubs his hands together and I can see him willing away his nerves before he begins focusing on his wibbly mind powers. There’s a noticeable difference now when he performs any of his business. His hair and eyes stay as they are, and he seems in himself a lot calmer. As if he’s shaken the tension that comes with having no purpose. He’s found his calling. 

There is barely any movement while Eren focuses, the air still aside from the roar of the engines. Said roar instantly dies down to a loud hum within seconds and Eren looks as if he’s really straining against the pressure. 

Armin has his eyes on the grids looking down at the clear fuel lines. I direct my attention there also. Not only is there no residual fuel trickling into the engine deck above, but it looks as though it’s being sucked back up to the tanks. 

The pipes run dry and we all hear a loud clunk of the fuel trap closing. Eren staggers a little but remains upright. 

“Eren, you did it!” Armin clenches a victorious fist. 

“So what happens when Zeke realises he's running on fumes. What’s to stop him just releasing more?” Jean the realist, as always. For the amount of shit that comes out of his mouth, he blesses us with just as many intelligent nuggets.

“The pressure should be too high to control it remotely. He’ll have to send someone, or a droid, to release the pressure valves. We however, are going to go down into the engine deck, and ‘borrow’ them,” Armin says with a dirty little smirk. I’ll admit, I can't help but smile at this clever idea. 

We all keep guard while Mikasa and Armin head down into the engine decks, their suits activating their cooling measures to handle the heat of the machinery. The team on deck keeps an eye out for any company. Zeke is likely fully aware of what we're doing. He has access to all instruments, gauges and visuals across the ship. 

I’m thinking, though. If Moblit was compromised, my guess is Zeke might have an ability to manipulate tech. 

“Armin, what do we do if Zeke is able to fix it remotely?” I ask as soon as he resurfaces with eight large valve caps. Without them you have no physical hope of getting fuel running again. They are a safety regulation virtually impossible to override. People die when these things aren't controlled. If they’ve been removed, it's for a damn good reason. It's one of the main components confiscated on apprehended criminal vessels. Each is like a key, unique to the ship. 

“What, like, mentally?” Armin looks thoughtful, scratching his chin lightly. “I guess I don't know. I've never heard of it being possible. I guess psychics with that ability are so rare…”

“We’ll just have to wing it and hope for the best. Not ideal, but if we can't tell, then...” I shrug. “Maybe Eren could help?” I suggest.

Eren is staring off into space and once he realises everyone is waiting on him, he snaps to. 

“Sorry, I was checking for their locations. Hange, and the two at the bridge haven’t moved, and Moblit seems harder to pick up. Should we go check on him?” Eren asks. 

I nod. It's good that the team all still look up to me for leadership even in trying times. We make a good team.

“You think a little bit of tinkering in the engines is enough to postpone your purpose?” Zeke questions over the ship announcers. 

“And what purpose is that?” Armin asks out loud, attention directed to the closest camera. We’re being watched indefinitely. There is a beat of silence where I wonder if Zeke is going to reply. 

“Your kind are a plague. We exist to cleanse you demons from this plane of existence.”

“Where are you taking us?” Armin asks. 

“There is a _sunny_ spot not too far from here. Just try to relax and enjoy the ride. Not much longer, now.” We overhear Pieck in the background saying something about 1.5 hours to destination. We check in with each other to ensure we all heard the same thing. 

It still sounds as if the ship is hurtling through space, so I have no idea how he’s powering it. 

“He's going to drive the ship into a sun to open a rift. His mind is surely lost to the void,” Armin says discreetly. “We need to stop him or evacuate before we enter the gravitational pull of the star.” 

“Is there any way of getting the bridge open?” I ask Armin. 

He thinks it over. “Maybe with a hot enough las cannon?” Armin shrugs. 

“That won’t work,” I press a finger to my lips as I think it over. “There should be physical emergency protocols in the bridge, as well as my quarters. We can pick up Moblit, then head to my room.” 

The squad all nod and we take off down the halls, armed and prepared for a fight. Thankfully none of the three psychics on board have brought forth any familiars or summoned any demons, so we’re doing alright. I imagine the fight for control over his ship will be one to the death. I’m betting that since they need us alive though, they’re likely to only try to capture rather than kill. 

I might be wrong though, so I ask the squad to be in a simIlarly cautious mindset. 

Once we get to Moblit’s room, we find the door ajar and smoking, and there is blood and mechanical body parts everywhere. There is no sign of Moblit though. 

We don't waste time. Ymir, Historia and Mikasa keep watch over Moblit’s room, Connie, Jean and Marlow watch the opposite corridor, and the rest guard the entrance to my quarters. 

It’s never disclosed exactly where the vault is, in the event that the Captain himself is compromised, but thankfully Erwin once gave me a head’s up. Psychics are also unable to detect its whereabouts or content. It’ll be hidden in plain sight, so I spend a while looking around the room seeing if my optics detect any irregularities. 

I scan the floor, the walls, the furniture - everything. Nothing stands out. 

“Ugh, where is Petra when I need her,” I mutter. I sort of miss her voice. She used to make our lives so much easier around here. I take a seat at my desk and slump into my seat, staring around the room, trying to work out where it would be. Armin comes in shortly after and raises an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“No luck?” he asks. 

I shake my head. “They don't tell us where it is. I only know it's in this room somewhere,” I explain. I pat around the desk hoping for part of the clear glass to activate via fingerprint. I tap the top, the sides and underneath, but nothing happens. Where are these sorts of things usually secretly hidden? Where would be the last place I would look if I didn't want a bunch of hostages escaping? 

Probably the shitter, to be honest. 

The penny drops. 

I’m up to my feet and off to the bathroom, patting down the walls in an effort for something to- _click_. The tile beneath my hand lights up and the light seems to the other tiles around it before they all dim to open a small safe. The insides contain a single book, an emergency manual issued by the military in partnership with the planet that builds their ships. 

I snatch it up and take it out to the desk, flicking it open with Armin to read it. 

Turns out it’s only one page of instructions, only the entire manual is written in every language you could imagine. 

As I’m turning the pages to the one written in my native tongue, my optical implant starts translating the various pages for me. I catch bits and bobs until my hands stop at the right page. 

“Did you find it, sir?” Armin calls. I’ve read what I need to know, and I know what I need to do. I stick the book back in the wall and it closes itself swiftly afterwards. 

“Got it,” I tell Armin as I pass. “We have to go to the observation deck,” I whisper to him, but do not say why. I don’t want anyone overhearing my intentions. We have to maintain as much of an element of surprise as possible, although I’m sure Armin will have it figured out by the time we get there. I wave for the squad to join me when they notice me appear from my quarters. I tell them we’re moving again and everyone follows closely. 

We swing quickly by the armoury in which I first visited to arm myself, and after that, we climb the service ladder up to the observation deck. I ensure everyone makes it up alive and take a few minutes to look around while I wait for them to hurry in. 

The observation decks are as white as the rest of the ship, but this particular room is situated just above the bridge and is on the very top of the ship. It allows a full view of everything aside from beneath the ship. It’s the crow’s nest. This room is where the bridge sources it’s visibility from, the outer imagery the windows pick up being delivered to the consoles down below. 

I can’t help but feel exposed out in the open, but I start feeling a little better once the crew are all up on the deck, armed to the nines and ready for a fight to the death. 

Jean is last up, and everyone looks to me expectantly. In the time it’s taken them to climb the long ladder, I have located the hatch and stand before it. It’s a manually operated sliding door which I heave open for them to see. Inside is an inter-ship portal. 

“Where does it lead?” Connie asks. 

“The Bridge,” I tell them. 

It’s been hours. A whole day already. I’m exhausted, and so are the rest of the team. 

However, we can’t rest now. 

We have a portal to the bridge right before us, and the only plan we have is to head through guns blazing and take out the two people in there holding our ship hostage. Armin will be needed to take control over the ship once Zeke has been dealt with, so he’ll be staying put on the observation deck to keep watch alongside Mikasa, Jean, Eren and Connie. 

“I don’t want Annie making a surprise appearance, so keep watch, and keep Armin alive,” I order them. Everyone obeys and we all cast our eyes toward the threatening light green film in the flooring before us. Just a tiny sheet of molecules is enough to frighten them. I know it’s not the portal itself, but rather what lies beneath. 

Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

I activate my suit’s energy shield, draw my pistols, and jump.


	15. Day 3,556

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Har har, a lot can happen in one day, huh? :D

My feet land on the ground firmly, and I am delivered right in front of the inner bridge doors. There are still smears of red on the doors and walls around me, where Miké was killed. I grimace, before moving swiftly to the side and duck behind the crew seating. Zeke is sat in the Captain’s chair, facing outward. I’m not sure if he noticed me. 

He’s powerful enough to know when someone is approaching, even Eren at his weakest point knew how to do that. Psychics are very sensitive, so I don’t allow for a second the thought that I may have an element of surprise. He does however pick up on the other squad members allowing themselves in, and thankfully they’re armed with shields, because Zeke is up on his feet in an instant. The intent to kill is clear on his face as his eyes turn to black. 

I keep an eye out for Pieck, but I can’t locate her. 

“What the hell!” I hear Marlow shout, eyes darting over to him to find him turning his gun on himself and firing into his own head. 

The others are frightened and as soon as they notice their guns also doing the same, they drop them like hot shit. Fuck, Zeke can control more than just tech, he can control tech of weapons too. Looks like this will have to be a hand to hand fight. 

Ymir makes an attempt at using her newly discovered mental powers and much to my surprise she seems very accustomed to it. Historia and Sasha hold back behind her while she does her thing. My eyes flick to Zeke and I try to catch onto what Ymir is trying to do, but I can’t tell. He’s not doing anything, and neither is Ymir. 

It’s a tense moment of stillness and I draw my swords instead, darting out from the side to intercept Zeke before he moves again. He catches on, but was clearly distracted, and reacts far too late. I force every ounce of my energy into my shoulder and arm, tightening my wrist as I force my blade through Zeke’s side. I fall off to the back of him when he tries to land a punch in self defence, but thankfully due to whatever it was Ymir was doing, I had the upper hand. 

I don’t see him walking away from this one. 

I catch a glimpse of the three by the door, who are all still alive, before rounding Zeke again and forcing my next blade through his jaw, up through his mouth. It splits his lip and cheek and he falls to his knees. 

“Idiots,” he manages to say messily around the blade. I can’t help but feel a foreboding sense that he knows something I don’t. It unsettles me. 

“Sir! Levi!” the crew call in alarm, and my eyes fall upon a huge dark mass behind me. I narrowly escape being gored by a huge clawed hand and I feel the ship move with the disturbing weight of the creature. It can only be Pieck, but the only issue is she is actually a greater demon. It had been manipulating Zeke and his ‘warriors’ into exercising this plan of theirs. Zeke slumps to the floor as he bleeds out and I draw my pistols again, firing in earnest as I back away.

This is one that would fall under our ‘oh shit’ category. It’s got rippling black skin covered with spikes and bone fragments. It’s body seems to be made up of various other bodies, as if it took any demon it fancied on its way out of the void and just fused with it to make a huge behemoth size version. 

I dread to imagine what would happen if we shot them apart. 

Historia, Ymir and Sasha also help with the firing, no longer caring for damaging the ship and more concerned about dispatching the demon before us. The gravity shifts around us and suddenly we’re all struggling to stand upright as the floor tilts beneath us. The ship hasn’t dipped, but the floor feels like it has, causing us to start sliding down toward the front of the bridge. 

I activate the jets on my flight suit and thankfully so do the others, but Sasha is a touch too late and the beast wraps a gnarly black hand around her leg. I pull up my laser pistol, aim, and fire, blowing the entire limb off as it growls and bleeds onto the windows. The arm is very quickly replaced, though, and it becomes clear to me that we’re not going to be able to defeat this beast by ourselves. Or, as a matter of fact, in the tight confines of the bridge. 

“We need to lure it out!” I tell them. “Get that door open!” 

I fire a few more shots to distract it and slow it down, nearly overloading the charge on my pistols as they struggle to keep up with the rate of fire. We need to eject this motherfucker, not kill it. Attacking it will only either exhaust us with the speed it can heal, or break it apart into smaller demons that will cause twice the havoc. 

Thankfully this one in particular is quite slow, but we still don’t have the psychic firepower to banish it back to the void. 

“Reverting power controls,” Petra announces as the lights flicker.

Once Zeke stops breathing, the chip deactivates and Petra reverts access to the last user. 

“Open the bridge doors, Petra!” I order her, and they slide open straight away. I try the comms as I fire myself up through the door, the change in gravity messing with my head for a short moment until I get used to walking on the walls instead of the floors. I help Historia, Ymir and Sasha, who is slightly injured, up into the corridor, and we all make a move to gain some distance. 

“Armin, can you hear me?” I ask over the comms, which now work in our favour. 

“Sir! We’re back online?!” I hear him ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, we have a greater demon down here, we need to banish it or eject it from the ship or something, we can’t attack it, get your asses down here, now!” 

“Yes, sir!” they all bark. 

“Hange, come in, Hange,” I request over the comms. Nothing but white noise comes back as a response. “Petra, run a scan, is Hange alive? And their location?” 

“Initialising. Hange is on the pod bay docking floor, alive. All vitals read normal,” Petra relays. Thank fuck. 

Armin and the others are heading down the ladder, only to find a shift in the gravity on this level. They run down the wall to meet us. 

“What is that thing?!” Eren asks as he lays eyes on the multiple black tar-like arms clawing its way out of the bridge. This is going to require a major cleaning operation once this thing is dealt with. 

“Pieck.” 

Armin throws a look over his shoulder, eyes widening at the size of the thing.

“Yeah, we have to banish it. I don’t think Eren knows how, though?” 

“I know how,” Ymir says with a grim expression. I daren’t ask. 

“First we have to lure it out, otherwise it will take a chunk of the ship with it,” Ymir tells me. “It’s not exactly safe, but I’ll try.” 

“Can’t you get Eren to help?” I ask her. 

Ymir looks over at him and shrugs. “Depends if he knows what he’s doing,” she tells me. The way she talks gives me the indication that she may not be entirely as newly presented as we think. She speaks with the authority that comes with experience. I don’t question it for the time being. If she can get rid of this thing, great, no need to ask questions. 

“Where do we take it?” I ask her. 

“Somewhere with a big open space. The service port or the pod bays would be ideal,” she says with a shrug. 

“Escape pod bay is closer, we’ll try that first,” I tell everyone. We’re running down the corridors on the rounded walls with the huge lumbering beast crawling after us. I have no idea where Annie is, or if she’ll make an appearance, but if this thing really was influencing the psychics, we’ll soon find out once this thing has been dealt with. 

The creature stops following us, and we all slow to a stop, turning to look at it. It hunches down and it’s back ripples and cracks as it distorts. This isn’t a good sign. 

Before we have a chance to turn on our heels and run for the corridor corner, huge chunks of black tar are hurtling our way, catching onto the walls and ceilings. It also catches onto a few of the squad’s arms and legs, creeping over their bodies to incapacitate them and render them motionless. Consuming them slowly like a snake does their prey. 

Eren and Ymir are quick to help Sasha and Jean escape from their black gooey shackles, Eren repelling the demonic substance away enough for his comrades to be able to slip away. The goo still tries to press forward to warm bodies even after removed. Once free, the pair stagger to their feet and look a little out of sorts. As long as they are alive, that will have to do. 

We fire off a few more shots at the beast but this time it just stops to absorb the energy and to our horror grows larger. 

“Cease fire!” Armin yells to everyone near to him. “It's just using the energy to gain power,” he explains quickly. The escape pod bays are located on the sides of the ship. They are obviously designed for some 500 people, not less than 20, so they’re huge. 

Only problem is it’s a long ass walk from one to the other. The bays themselves contain rows of escape pods, large enough for 5 people. In the event of one side of the ship taking substantial damage, there are extra pods too, a total of 200. 100 to a side. 

Each of these have their own launch shoot, which also has its own airlock. We should be able to use one of these shoots to eject the demon from the ship. 

Or at least that's the plan. 

The plan which isn't going all too well when we arrive to find the doors sealed closed to contain a fire. 

“Hange!” I call into the glass of the bay door, trying to see if I can spot them. I see a shadow of movement behind the smoke and bang on the door. 

“Hange, open the pod bay doors!” I tell them, hoping they can hear me. “Hange!” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Levi,” their tired voice sounds through the comms. 

“What, why?” I react, my mind reeling with all sorts of possible scenarios as to what may have happened to my lead technician. 

“Zeke overrode my hardware. It needs a total reset or I’ll do you harm,” they explain. 

“Anyone got any stun rounds?” I ask, eyeing the demon lumbering closer by the second. It fires another round of black sludge at us, but Eren is quick to throw his hands up and stop all of it mid-air, hurtling it right back at the beast. It roars and doesn't seem to appreciate the gesture, slowing for a moment. 

“Yeah, here,” Connie stuffs a clip into my hand for me to slide into the top of my rifle. 

“Open the doors, Hange, we can handle you,” I order. 

No response. 

“Petra, override Hange’s door control to myself and open the pod bay doors.” 

It takes a moment, but thankfully the order is successful and the doors click open, releasing a billow of smoke. I fire a stun round at Hange as soon as I have a clear shot and they fall to the ground in a lump. Thankfully the gravity reverts itself when we jump through the doors, and we all land on our backs on the ground. 

“Armin, disable Hange and drag them with us,” I tell the squad as I walk swiftly past Hange’s twitching body. They’ll thank me for it later. The last thing we need to be dealing with is Hange’s multitude of weapons. You’d be surprised what they can fit under those robes. Pretty deadly stuff. 

Anyway, we make quick work of evaluating the damage and thankfully there aren't any breaches in the hull. It looks like Annie paid Hange a visit and threw some fireballs around. There is no residue from the burn marks, suggesting the fire was created seemingly from thin air. Sounds like Annie alright. 

We all jog down the pod bay to put some distance between us. Ymir explains to me that she just needs to get it outside, then she’ll banish it. Eren holds the thing off as best he can while we swiftly hash out the details.

It seems almost too simple. As if there’s again, something she’s not telling me. I’m not in the situation to complain though, so I’ll have to trust her. 

“I swear to god if you get us all killed I will haunt you for all of time,” I tell her and she just laughs dryly. The creature is busying itself trying to fight past Eren’s mental shields. He seems to have little issue slowing it down with his newly unearthed abilities. No doubt we’ll have to spend some time practicing with those new abilities once this is over. 

A strange thought crosses my mind, thinking of the possibility that Eren would still want to be involved with me, in that way, once this is all over. 

An idiotic thought, really. 

Anyway, back swiftly to more pressing matters, the demon has had enough of our games, and its great mass of bodies rises and starts to take form. The various beings that created it all snap and crunch into place, obscene squelching and popping noises sounding through the long bay as it transforms into something much more recognisable. 

It straightens it’s back, standing on two long clawed legs, two arms with vicious talons and a humanoid torso. Its head has two huge horns atop it. Its left arm stretches out into a long blade and the thing _roars_. Everyone stumbles and covers their ears, deafened for a short moment. My ears are left ringing as the demon crouches and lunges into a terrifyingly fast charge. 

“Not good, not good!” Jean yells, and I shout for everyone to get out of its way as it lunges forward, sprinting at us. 

The squad all but manage to dive out of the way but Jean takes a hit and goes flying into the wall. My optics tell me he's still alive but I have no time for any lengthy scans, the demon is pissed. 

It's not as intelligent as I thought it would be. It's going after its sacrificial lambs, showing its true form. It can probably tell it’s fucked, so it's trying to eliminate the threat. We killed his puppets after all, there’s no telling what it might try. 

So we can't kill it, since it’s likely to break apart into multiple demons, and we’re gonna have to try and lure it out. The escape pod airlocks aren't big enough to comfortably lure it in without someone dying, so shit is inevitably about to get messy. 

“Fix Jean and Hange to something, get the airlock open, and hold on!” I yell to Connie and Mikasa who are on that side of the hall. We all split to avoid its charge, and it seems to be taking a liking to their side. 

I’ll have to distract it. 

Thrusters on, I jet myself up into the air, high enough for it to turn its ugly horned head in my direction. I fire a single warning shot just past it’s head and it growls at me, getting ready to charge. The squad duck and dive out of the way as it swings its flesh made sword, picking up its pace as it runs at me. I back myself up and arm myself with my swords, activating them. With a few hexagonal patterns, the blades solidify from nearby molecules and they glow gently. 

As soon as the greater demon is within range, I fire myself up over it’s head and slice two clean gashes down its back. It bellows as I land on my feet and circle it quickly, taking a slice at both legs. I have no intention on breaking it apart, just slowing it down. 

It swipes it’s huge sword around, nearly beheading me. I duck in the nick of time and I can swear I see a piece of black hair aflutter in the razor sharp blades wake.

My suit works wonders in tightening snug against my body, acting like a second skin and keeping me safe. I jump back away from the demon’s next swing, the jets on my suit helping to propel me out of range. 

“Ready, say when!” Mikasa shouts. 

“Ready Ymir?” Sasha asks hurriedly over the comms. 

“Ready,” she says, stood down by one of the bay doors. Historia has a hold on Jean on the opposite side of the hatch and Mikasa is hooked onto Hange. The rest of the squad all activate their boots which clamp them to the floor. Their suits will keep them relatively upright as the pressure is lost. One final order to Petra to seal and contain the area and I give the order to open the doors. 

A strong ass gust whips violently around the bay, knocking shit over and sucking stuff out into space. The demon loses its footing and growls loudly but it’s claws dig straight into the floor, keeping itself rooted. Fuck. 

I’m struck from behind by something flying out through the gap and it temporarily knocks the wind out of me. Blood is sucked off my neck and out into space. When I glance up, there is a flash of white, an elegant waft of robes and a head full of white hair stood before the demon. Whatever just struck the demon, Annie has decided to help us, slicing clean through the claws with a white hot whip of fire. 

In a trail of black sludge and howls, the demon is forced across the floor and out of the ship. The suction dislodges the escape pods nearest to the breach from their rails. Eren throws his arms out and holds them from blocking the hole. He catches them just in time as the demon tries to catch hold of the doors, failing, Annie chasing after it out, hot on its tail. 

By the time I manage to clamber over to the breach, all I can see outside of the ship is a mess of black, blue and white as Annie fights the demon off in zero gravity. 

It’s a short battle, but clearly Annie knows what Ymir was planning, because the sight before us distorts greatly before the entire scene blinks away into a tiny ripple. Connie closes the doors and all that is left outside to see is still, open space. 

Where they both went, I have no idea. 

“Is everyone alright?” Armin calls out. I approach Jean to find him looking up at Historia with a dumb ass look of wonder on his face. 

“Am I in heaven?” he asks, face smeared with blood. Historia just laughs, still trying to catch her breath. 

“Oh wait,” he groans, looking around. “If I’m in heaven, why is Eren here?” He complains, drawing a few snickers and smirks from the squad. 

“Oh, thanks, horseface!” Eren spits. 

At least he's not too injured. 

Eren throws me a strange look, one of relief, before Mikasa and Armin join his side. 

“We need to make sure Annie didn't teleport that thing somewhere else on the ship,” Armin says. 

“Petra, run the scan,” I tell her. She reports back with no other life forms aboard, and only then, is when everyone sags with relief. 

“Don't get too comfortable, we’re still on track to fly straight into a sun,” I snap, turning on my heels to jog down the halls. I trust them to deal with Hange and Jean, they’re not too far from the medical bays. 

Once I get back to the bridge, the first thing I notice is that we’re barely moving. I flick a few switches and tap away at the console to configure the route back to headquarters and everything seems to be operating smoothly. 

Except for one thing. 

“Eren,” I call into my mic. 

“Sir?” 

“Release the fuel lines, slowly,” I ask him. 

“Roger that, give me a minute to get down there,” he says. While I wait, I get to the unfortunate task of collecting what is left of Miké and arranging him into some sort of semblance of decency. It looks like he was torn apart. It wouldn't have been a pleasant death and I make a note to get that damn chair cleaned or replaced out of spite. 

I call some drones up with a gurney as well as some to begin cleaning the bridge from blood and demonic sludge. This whole ship is going to need purifying when we get back, lest we all want to go mad. Spend too much time around anything like this and you’ll lose whatever marbles you've got left. 

The drones have just arrived when Eren confirms he’s slowly released the fuel lines. I watch carefully as he does it, as the apparatus slowly returns to normal. I run a few tests too, just to ensure I truly have full controls back. 

Everything seems okay. 

I only feel myself relax when I have the yoke in my hands, banking right and feeling the ship respond. I map out any obstructions, but thankfully we’re good to jump into the next sector. 

First though, autopilot set, I go to check on the squad, securely locking the bridge doors behind me.


	16. Day 3,556 part 2

When I get back to the squad, I find them collected in the medical bay. Jean is lying on one of the bays, an automated physician seeing to mending his broken back. He’ll be a bit stiff for a couple of days but otherwise he’ll be fine. 

Everyone else has checked themselves in for a few bruises and cuts and Eren is recouping in the back, curled away from everyone with a couple of nodes stuck to his temples. Ymir is doing the same, clearing her mind as Historia sits beside her. 

“Any signs of Moblit?” Mikasa asks me from her seat at the end of Eren’s bed. I shake my head.

Suppose we ought to go look for him. 

“Volunteers to go find him?” I ask. He's not showing up on my scans so I'm presuming him dead somewhere. Everyone else can sense the same thing. Armin offers to join me. I take what I can get, and we make our way out. 

“Petra’s run a scan of any… bodies, and it came out clean,” I tell him. 

“Odd,” he says after humming thoughtfully. “The live scans are coming up clean too.” 

“So he’s a non-entity,” I say with a shrug. Just perfect. How do civilisations without technology exist? I smirk dryly at the thought, scoffing at our dependence on machinery to guide our senses. 

“Where could he have gone?” Armin asks. I knew him better so it's a logical question. One I unfortunately don't know the answer to. I shrug as we stare at the entrance to Moblit’s quarters. 

“I have an idea,” Armin tells me. He points at the blood trail leading from his door. It stops fairly quickly but it gives us a direction to start with. I ask what Armin has in mind. 

“So he knew he was being influenced, could he have holed himself in one of the containment units to stop any further interference?” Intelligent question. 

“Let's try.”

We head down the main ramp to the level below, ending up shortly in the long corridor where I had to fight off Annie’s molten assault. We check the rooms one by one, unsealing them and opening them up to check. 

Finally, at the final unit, we open the doors with a click and a hiss, and sat on the other side of the circular pod is none other than Mr. Berner himself. He's alive by the looks of it, although clearly he has seen better days. 

His left wrist is wrapped in a blood soaked towel and there is blood all over his flight suit, primarily from where a couple of his extra mechanical arms were forcibly removed from their artificial sockets. The things are still hard wired into his nervous system, so it's a miracle he's not paralysed. 

He's unresponsive when we approach, but breathing. Armin calls for a gurney and we get him up to medical within the next fifteen minutes. We end up submerging him in the reconstruction tank with an air tube, where he will stay for a week while his missing hand is restructured from artificial bones, nerves and muscle. 

It won't exactly be the same as his old cybernetic one, but it’ll be a functioning hand nonetheless. I have Petra monitor and report on his vitals on a regular basis. 

Everyone gets a good checkup, including myself. I get my gammy ankle looked at, and the only thing the damn machine can suggest is getting a bone replaced. Something about the rot in my muscles going too deep to eradicate surgically. Looks like I’ll be getting another cybernetic enhancement when we dock. 

The next couple of days following the recapture of the Paradis goes fairly smoothly. When I tell everyone we are back to almost full operating procedure, they seem to relax. 

We hold a night of mourning for Miké and Marlow, sharing in their favourite meals and exchanging stories. The younger team members told us all about Marlow during training and the veterans aboard told of days spent with Miké throughout the years. 

It was a great loss, no matter if only two people. They’ll both be missed. 

And then replaced, as is the way in the military. 

As soon as we touch base back at headquarters, we’ll be assigned new team members and given a new mission.

I reiterate my promise to allow the squad a few days to relax before their next assignment. They really pick up after that. 

I return to my quarters after leaving Hange in charge for the second shift. With promises of Moblit being back in a day or two, they let me go with little complaint about having a lack of company.

Once done changing into my sleepwear, there is a tap at the door. I hadn't set it to ‘do not disturb’ mode, so it automatically opens. Eren is stood there. I move to sit on the edge of my desk as he enters, the doors sealing us off from the rest of the ship. 

“Sir,” he says. 

“Eren,” I mirror. He's also changed into his sleep attire, a simple shirt, trousers and simple slip on shoes. 

“We should probably talk, right?” He says, chewing his lip nervously. I sigh and eventually nod. There's no denying this conversation needs to happen. 

“Sorry?” I start, unsure of how this is meant to go. 

“We didn't exactly have control over our actions,” Eren excuses me. I just shrug. I don't know if I should tell him I've been contemplating far more than professional thoughts since finding out the whole coupling was artificial. 

“But,” Eren starts, not moving. He sounds uncertain. “I understand if you say no, but-” 

“Are you about to suggest what I think you are?” I interrupt. Eren’s face turns bright red and he averts his eyes to the floor. He was definitely about to suggest we keep at it. What's worse is I think it's a fantastic idea. 

I've spent days of silence thinking it over, and after long enough without a peep, I have been expecting him to pretend none of it ever happened in the first place. So, he's gone for the route I figured most unlikely. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that. Unless of course I am grossly mistaken in my excitement to get him back into bed. 

“Sorry, I’ll just go-” 

“Wait,” I stop him, far too quickly to be played off cool. He perks an eyebrow. 

“I mean, if you were going to suggest what I think you were going to suggest… I would say I’m alright with it?” I allude to the topic. I don’t outright say it. I refuse to be the first one to say it. 

“So you’ll give me a pay rise and a better room?” Eren catches my bluff. Smart little shit. He’s got a cocky little smirk on his face, so I can tell he’s messing with me. 

“Depends where you want the room,” I counter, unable to prevent myself from fucking flirting. I must look like such an idiot right now, ‘cause I certainly feel like one. 

“I can suggest a couple of places,” Eren says playfully. Whatever retort I could possibly have come up with dies before it’s born as I feel the ghost of an imaginary hand squeeze my arse cheek. Startled, I lurch forward and glare at the desk like it had just bit me in the arse. Eren laughs, and finally, _finally_ I get to hear something good for a change. 

We square off and my eyes meet his for what feels like a long fucking while. In reality it’s more like five seconds as we wait to see who will act first. 

It’s Eren. 

Before I know it my arse has an actual hand on it for real, and I’m being shoved up against my desk with Eren’s lips back on mine. It’s hungrier and more feral than anything we’d done previously, but I suppose this would be the first time we’ve consensually partnered without someone else steering us toward one another. 

It makes it so much more exciting. 

The main difference this time, is I can feel Eren in places I know he hasn’t got enough hands for in reality. It’s as if there are hands holding up my legs around his waist, squeezing and kneading my thighs, as well as around my back, gripping onto my hair, my neck, everywhere. 

“Fuck,” I’m panting when we finally break apart, obvious arousals pressed against each other and Eren’s breath heavy against my cheek. “Why didn’t you do this last time?” I ask him, and he laughs again. 

“I didn’t know how!” he chuckles, leaning in to kiss me again, slower this time. It’s as though I can feel more this time around. There is absolutely no questioning that this is where I want to be right now. There’s not that constant fuzz of uncertainty that comes with being manipulated into something. I can just focus all of my attention onto my senses, and enjoy the moment. 

It’s made even easier for me to do this when I feel Eren’s warm hand sliding beneath my shirt coupled with the ethereal hold of another pair of hands on my thighs, stroking up and down ever so sensually. 

I can’t stop the quiet moan that escapes my throat. Can’t bring myself to care either, since it seems to egg Eren on even more, moving down to kiss at my neck gently. I feel his teeth scrape gently across the skin, and I can barely tell anymore if it’s his teeth or something made from thin air. I think I’m alright with Eren being a telekine. 

“You like that, huh?” Eren asks, and I just groan softly, hands on his shoulders moving up to his neck and into his hair. “Can I leave a mark?” he asks as I feel the warmth of his tongue against my pulse point. 

“We can always get it lasered off before we get to HQ,” I tell him with a smirk. He grins right back at me and I can feel his hand palming at my crotch at the same moment there is a sharp pain on my neck. I flinch at the unexpected, complimentary sensations, but Eren soon soothes the bite with a slow, warm kiss. 

Eren must read my mind, because before I have a chance to tell him I’m starting to get impatient, he’s lifting me off the desk, off my paperwork, and through to the bedroom. 

By the time we finish, I’m too damn tired to bother getting up to visit the med bay to deal with the array of bite marks and hickeys all over my… everything. Eren doesn’t look much better to be honest. We may or may not have done a couple of serious numbers on each other, and my hips ache as a result. 

Fuck, everything aches actually. 

Having Eren curled up against my back isn’t exactly a bad way of waking up though. I check the time and I have to blink and check it again. 

“Fuck,” I mutter. Eren startles behind me when he realises I’m moving in a hurry and he must think something is on fire, because he sits up and wobbles a bit. 

“Wha,” he can barely form words and sort of mumbles, which is adorable, but I don’t have time to stick around. I’ve been asleep the entire second shift, and I’m late for my own. By a whole fucking hour. 

“What is it?” Eren asks. 

“I’m late,” I tell him, squeezing into my suit and sealing it up the front panel. “Stay here if you want, but get dressed. We’re jumping again soon,” I tell him, leaning over very quickly to give him a quick peck on the lips. It feels strange being able to do it, but it comes naturally to me. 

I hurry up to the bridge after cleaning my teeth and freshening my breath and the whole fucking squad is there. Hange gives me a strange look as soon as I march in, and the squad’s conversation dies down to an immediate silence. Minus Sasha having to nudge Connie. Way to make it obvious, guys. 

I take a seat and apologise quickly to Hange, who doesn’t look at all bothered. 

“So uh, good night huh?” they say with a shit eating smirk. Fuck, how loud were we? 

“The rooms are soundproof for a reason, you ain’t got shit on me. Nice try,” I tell them, almost self satisfied enough to smirk. Hange doesn’t look sold though, which is when it hits me. 

Fucking hickeys. 

As soon as I stand to leave for the med bay, despite the damage already being done, Eren strolls around the corner, dressed and ready for action. It’s a bit too obvious. So obvious in fact it’s almost painful. 

“Well, looks like it was a good night for both of you,” Hange laughs. 

Mikasa’s face is a picture and a lot of the others look entirely nonchalant. Makes me wonder just how subtle we were before all of the bullshit. It’s still embarrassing to have it out in the open. 

“You, keep flying this thing,” I point to Hange and then to Eren, “you, with me, now.” 

The guys start to whistle at Eren as I grab his arm and pull him out of the room, down the hall and through to the medical bay. I draw a curtain around a cubicle and pull up a hand-held laser pointer. It’s purpose is to handle the mending of simple cuts and bruises, but it works a treat on neck bites and back scratches.

Needless to say it takes a while to clean ourselves up. There were a lot of marks to go over. Marks which Eren promises to put right back in place as soon as dinner is over for today. Promises I intend on seeing him fulfill. 

Fuck, I’ve got it bad and it’s only day one. It's just a shame this laser can’t do jack shit about the blush tipping my ears and bridge of my nose.

Thankfully day one turns swiftly into day two, three, four. Our trip finally comes to a halt when we make our final jump back into sector 5-023, with planet Sina in sight.

We dock with no issues at all. The relief that floods through everyone as soon as the ship is stationary is tangible. There’s a buzz in the air that is only ever there whenever we land from long missions. 

First port of call? A local bar - on solid, real ground. 

Eren and I duck out early and head back to the ship while it’s being worked on. We avoid the technicians with ease and hide away in my quarters, locking the doors behind us and taking our slight buzz into bed with us. 

We’re docked for a full week while we refuel and the squad are allowed free time to do as they please. The main reason we don’t leave sooner, is that I am forced into the hospital to have my ankle finally looked at. I can’t quite place how long it took, but I’ve had a chunk of my leg replaced with artificial flesh where they had to remove a big piece and fit it with a cybernetic muscle and core bone. 

Took a few days to get used to, but the transition and healing process went pretty quickly. I’m back to normal test results by the end of the first week, so we’re cleared to head out on our few days of leave. 

Said few days of leave I promised everyone when the bullshit was over. 

“Where are we going, Levi?” Armin asks when the squad are assembled on the bridge. I asked for new recruits to be assigned after we get back, since we’re not going anywhere on-duty. 

“We’re going to a pleasure world.” 

Finally, a happy look on everyone’s faces.


	17. Epilogue

It's not news to the crew that Eren and I are fucking. It also comes as no surprise that we intend on spending time together on the small planet P-4Q. Also known as ‘Paradise’. The Paradis feels so much smoother to pilot now it’s been rid of any traces of Zeke and his crew. 

We still don't know what happened to Annie. 

Anyway, we’ve taken the three hour flight over here to enjoy some much needed rest and relaxation after our last mission. Even I’ll admit, I’ve seen a lot, but it's never hit the fan quite that bad before. We’ve always had control of the ship, even if it’s in pieces. 

Alright, I suppose crashing is worse. That shit hurts for weeks. Last time I broke both legs. It’s probably what started off my ankle. Picked up some weird disease or something. 

Anyway, I clock the planet’s entrance gate, where they scan your ship for weapons, and guide myself into the queue of ships awaiting entry. One scan of our registration and the red light surrounding the ship blinks to white, and we are allowed to pass. 

I was about to say no one usually dares to fuck with military ships, but that has only recently been proven very wrong. I’ll activate all defence mechanisms though once we leave. 

The crew are all behind me, buckled in for landing. I can feel a faint sensation on my shoulders as take us down, as though someone has a pair of hands massaging them. Not quite hard enough, though. 

“Please remember this is a weapon free planet. If you are an Emperium or Military vessel, you are permitted one hand held weapon. Please carry licenses for these,” the automated introduction sounds through our comms system. Should civilians be found packing anything here, they’re usually ejected from the planet. It happens about as often as drunks are thrown out of bars. 

“Thank you for understanding and please enjoy your stay. Welcome to Paradise,” it says as we descend into the atmosphere. The planet from afar is mainly green and blue, with barely any cloud. It's not too far from the local sun, so temperatures are always warm. It's a popular holiday destination for those rich enough to afford the travel and services. 

Thankfully military often get certain things for free on planets like this. Perks of the job, since the threat of dying is so high on this particular career path. 

It's a small planet so it only takes minutes to descend into the main spaceport, and we’re granted permission to land and given a dock number once the queue has been dealt with. 

While we wait, the crew are super excited, pointing out lakes and amusement parks and generally chatting away amongst themselves. 

P-4Q is a pleasure world. It is an intergalactic holiday destination with parks, gardens, shopping, theme parks and spas, and _lots_ of nightlife. Not to mention a whole continent dedicated to various sexual pleasures. All at a cost, of course. There isn't a spaceport on that particular continent, allowing the area to remain fairly clean and free of minors. Not that this stops them from sneaking in through planetary surface transportation.

Anyhow, we dock without issue and I tell everyone when we’re leaving, and to try to stay out of trouble and be back on time. Not a difficult request. 

Eren is spending his first two days with the squad, and the last day with me. We’ll be staying in the same hotel at night though. 

Hange asks if I want company while everyone is out, but I decline and send them off with Moblit to foam at the mouth over various tech merchants. 

When the ship is finally empty, I have time to round off the rest of my work. I make a schedule of shit we need to do before our next mission, followed by a final appointment with Erwin to catch up and debrief properly. We have logs of everything, so it's always fairly straightforward. 

Eren will need a mentor for his telekinetic powers and Ymir will need to be declared and put through sanctioning, to get approved.

Other than that, it's just me and the silence of the ship. No creaks or weird noises, just sweet, glorious stillness. 

I sleep the first day away, rousing only in the evening to join the squad out at a bar. I wake to a number of drunken messages from Hange and a few from Eren, telling me to get my ass out of the ship and to start enjoying myself. 

Solitude is enjoyment to me. I suppose a day is long enough, especially when everyone clearly wants me included on team activities. 

This planet has a perfect artificial gravity field, so I don't need any heavy or lightweight clothing. Just standard civilian attire. It's all military branded anyway, just a lot more comfortable than a space suit. 

As anywhere like this, there are so many different types of people. Much like our starting destination, only much less crowded. You need to book to fly here, or come on purpose built cruise vessels, so the streets aren't ever packed like a hive world. 

Thankfully the Paradis is allowed to go wherever we want, within reason. 

I rock up to the aforementioned bar and the place is more akin to a nightclub. There's a queue outside and I can hear people muttering my name. Small universe. I approach the large doorman and they nod at me. I've been here before. He waves me in, regardless of the envious looks of those waiting outside. 

Inside is a large open space with a few bars around the sides of the room. There are dancers in the centre on a few different stages: nothing too risqué. Tasteful, even. The thrum of music pulses through the floor as I walk in, avoiding dancing bodies as I hone in on my locator. 

There's a few of the squad up and dancing outside a raised area for booths. Eren is sat there with the rest, drinks and empty glasses covering their table. Moblit has the most empty glasses, but doesn't even have so much as a pink tint to his cheeks. He can drink anyone under the table, no issues. 

“Captain,” Jean greets, nodding at me before he is dragged away by Sasha to dance. I spot the annoyed look on his face as he is forced to separate from Mikasa’s side. Mikasa, who is none the wiser to his interests. It's quite entertaining to try and guess when she’ll catch on. She's an excellent fighter, quick witted and intelligent, but in certain areas of interaction she can be incredibly dense. Perhaps she's just more interested in behaving professionally, unlike her not-so-secret crush.

“What’d you all get up to today, then?” I ask them as Eren makes space for me beside him. 

“So many books!” Armin says, smiling excitedly. 

“We did some shopping,” Mikasa says. 

“Yeah, kinda hard to miss all the shit these guys brought back onto the ship earlier. I'm surprised you didn't notice,” Ymir snickers. “Besides, I got the best purchase of the day!” She announces proudly, to which Historia glares. 

“And she won’t tell anyone what it is!” Historia rolls her eyes. 

“I told you, it's a surprise,” Ymir stresses gently, giving Historia’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, to which the blonde just pouts, sipping her drink. 

I wave a waiter by and order a drink, and return to the conversation. Eren tries to convince me to go and dance but I tell him I need a few more drinks yet before that will happen. So he waits patiently until I loosen up a little, and soon enough I give into his pleading to join them. 

The music here isn't too bad, it's fairly mainstream as far as this sector goes, so thankfully I even recognise a few songs. It’s a fun night. 

Moblit and I end up making sure everyone makes it back to the hotel in one piece and everyone splits up to head to their rooms for the night. Connie, Sasha, Jean, Mikasa and Eren all crowd into Connie’s room for some further socialising but Eren is quick to make an excuse to leave. 

At which point he finds me waiting for him. Naked. 

Mainly because I'd just finished my shower when he returns, but still. He jumps on the opportunity to get his leg over, and I let him. It's not the world’s greatest sex, but it gets us both off, so we sleep well at least. 

The second day I end up joining in with the squad’s theme parking. Turns out I’m not all that impressed by amusement rides. I suppose when you’ve piloted a cruiser the appeal of controlled adrenaline seems weak in comparison. 

The crew seem to have a good day though, and the food here is good to make up for it. We find a specialty tea house for dinner too, which also adds to the enjoyment for me personally. It's a cute, intimate little space with very few rowdy tables, and Ymir insisted upon taking Historia somewhere separate that evening. 

They meet back up with us when they learn we’re still there, enjoying the wine now it’s late. We learn the news that Ymir proposed, and Historia said yes. That explains Ymir’s cheeky little secret purchase the day prior. Good on them.

Eren gets drunk that night and I end up with him pressed against the wall as I have my way with him. He’s too uncoordinated to top tonight, so it’s my turn.

“So, when are you going to propose, huh?” he asks playfully as we curl up into bed after a shower. The question takes me off guard, and I’m quiet as I think it over for a moment. It wouldn’t be an awful idea. It wouldn’t be great, either. 

“We’ve only been doing this for a few weeks.” That’s my weak excuse. Eren doesn’t buy it, but he isn’t pushy with his response. 

“Well, that’s not a no,” he says, drawing mindless shapes on my chest with a finger. The affectionate sensation soothes me.

“How about we wait and see?” I propose instead. 

“How about I beat you to it?” Eren counters. I pull a face. 

“There’s no need to rush,” I tell him, and he shifts so he’s sat up on his free elbow, the other still draped across me as he faces me. 

“We probably won’t live long. I know the life expectancy isn’t the greatest in our line of work,” he says glumly. 

“I’ll keep you as safe as I can,” I tell him, tucking his scruffy hair behind his ear. “You need a haircut.” 

Eren scoffs and leans in for a quick kiss. 

“You didn’t say no,” Eren reminds me. I crack a slight smile. 

“I didn’t.” I give him a quick kiss and finally get him to shut up and head to sleep. It’s late, and we’ve only got one day left, so I want to enjoy it. 

When the final day does arrive, I’ve grown bold enough on our designated day together to take Eren’s hand in mine while in public. It’s not an unusual sight for military personnel to have partners. We’re very clearly off duty despite the single laser pistol clipped to each of our belts. 

Eren slinks a little closer and takes hold of my shoulder as we wander through one of the larger ornate gardens. I slip my hand around his waist and I can’t help but feel strangely warm at the feeling of how well we slot together. The gardens are a huge showcase of the sector’s most attractive, scented and beautiful plant life. Some of it is cordoned off because it’s literally carnivorous, but they’re still cool to look at. It’s probably the only place in the sector where you’ve got a bit of everything. 

Tea and a late breakfast follows the botanical gardens, followed by a swim together in one of the lakes, followed by a couple of hours at a spa, where we run into the girls from the squad, plus Connie. Jean and Armin went off to do something together, they don’t know what. 

Anyway, we all plan to meet up for a final dinner, and I can honestly say I needed this day with just Eren. We just did nothing all day and chatted shit. Sometimes literally shit. We had a very in-depth conversation about when you go to take a dump, and someone tries to open the door, and you literally feel it desperately trying to slither it’s way back into your colon. 

Eren got really into it. 

Hilarious. 

Shit conversations aside, we’re all meeting up at the end of the day for a celebratory dinner. 

The company is decent, the food is fantastic, and no one gets shit faced. The night is going well. Everyone is tired and ready to literally sleep their way back to HQ, myself included. 

Once we’re all on our way out, laughing jovially and generally in high spirits, I slow my walk to a stop and look around. Something in the air feels… off. 

“What is it?” Eren asks, noticing when my hand in his stops. The rest soon notice and backtrack. 

“Do you feel that?” I ask them.

Eren’s eyebrows knit together and he and Ymir seem to catch on quicker than the rest. My eyes widen as we all hear screams from behind us. The sky darkens quickly and that strange, foreboding feeling develops quickly into one of fear and panic. The kind of fear that is induced forcefully by our favourite beings in the galaxy: demons. 

I turn my head to look into the sky, noticing a small tear opening up and washing the promenades and parks with a strange hue. People start to flee when they notice demons starting to climb their way through into our reality, huge black blobs sprouting wings and descending upon the crowds. 

“Get back to the ship!” I order everyone, arming myself and firing toward any demons that come close while we sprint back to the spaceport. 

It takes a good ten minutes, with the help of a tram, but we’re back in the Paradis and suited up in less than five minutes, armed and entering our fighters. The squad don’t wait for instruction to launch, immediately out into the action. 

Eren is with me, as he usually is. I’ll get him close to the tear and he’ll close it. Jean is piloting. I’m on the guns, Mikasa and Eren on standby, and I quickly give the order when everything is online. 

“Take us out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
>  
> 
> _...or is it?_


End file.
